My Manic and I
by SadieMichelle
Summary: Aro never bothered to find his mate, marrying Sulpicia because it was simple and it suited his goals at the time. However, destinies can't remain apart for long. And this time around, a fake 'I Love You' won't win him a wife.
1. Chapter 1

**I got the idea to write this story partly from seeing BD2 and partly from reading a twilight bio that stated Aro never truly picked a mate. He chose Sulpicia as his wife because he did not want to do pointless searching for his own and by that time, he already had plans in place to become rich and royal. An easy solution, and it got him all the power he wanted, so why bother searching? I found this information to be very interesting, and so this story sprouted. It'll be a little overwhelming at first, but as you get progressively further, it'll become easier to understand as things are revealed. I always get nervous when writing the Volturi so bear with me, and know that this will portray most of them in a darker light than I usually write since I think Aro is just a drama king with an infectious laugh. The story will get dark at times, but I'm a huge crusader of romance in stories so I do hope to work that in eventually. I don't think I've ever done a story like this before, and I hope to generate at least a bit of interest for writing convincing OC's. Above all else, enjoy! **

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**Prologue**

**Part I : Courageous Departure**

In the year 1352, as June welcomed a late, chill spring and Europe suffered the returning rage of the Bubonic Plague, a twenty-two year old woman gathered up her youngest child in ragged cloths, pressed a tender kiss to the boy's feverish head, then departed from her wattle and daub home, leaving her oldest son to care for her youngest.

This woman was known as Propheta to her village, or seer. She made what little money she could, reading the palms of anxious newlyweds praying for children or predicting the fortunes of farmers in the harvest time.

She resided in a miniscule village in what is now modern Italy just off the coast of the Ligurian Sea. Because of a port stationed no more than ten miles from their village, the plague was easily able to invade and nearly depopulated her town altogether.

The threat of such a deadly epidemic, however, failed to sway the seer from partaking in her journey. Few realized that a purpose lay within her expedition and by leaving behind her children, two sons that she loved dearly and wholly, only served to show how determined she was to complete her task.

So, upon venturing out her front door, unshed tears stored in her eyes, the seer offered a prayer of departure for forgotten friends. Through the muddy paths, she had to maneuver around lifeless bodies since no one was left to dig holes for them any longer. And this only made her prayers that much more heartfelt.

The putrid stench of decomposing flesh stuck with her long after the departure, attracting flies and gnats along the way, but eventually, she pushed away the scenes of those that lay dead and continued on.

After an hour or so of walking, she managed to direct herself east, a task only accomplished because she could no longer smell the saltiness of the sea. And as she walked, hidden inside her black cloak, Propheta realized that she only needed one key thing in what was to come.

Bravery.

**Part II: The Nature of Propheta**

As a child, Propheta believed God wouldn't allow her entrance into heaven. Surely such a strange gift as fortune telling only attracted devils and pagans. And the few seers she'd known, often disassociated themselves from any religion altogether, claiming various mystical deities determined their faith.

By far, her childhood had been the worst as visions of lives not her own, intruded upon her mind's eye. Deaths and births of persons in lands she did not recognize nor could explain, repeated in vivid detail beneath the lids of her eyes, often frightening her mother as well as unsettling the village.

Whether due to the stress of simply pushing them away or maybe a God above pitied her struggle, she couldn't say, but after having her firstborn, Vici, the number of visions steadily plummeted. Where in a simple day, two visions would invade her thoughts, after Vici's birth, it was lucky if she got one a week.

Then again, who was Propheta to argue? While the visions had earned her a living, they also casted her out of society and deemed her wicked by those who worshipped a God. They were an anomaly to be sure, even if she managed to have the slightest of control over them.

To her misfortune, the ones she had control over were not the ones that would have her paralyzed in fear afterwards, clutching murderously at her heart with tears stinging her eyes.

Often, the visions she had little control over, related to people she had never met, living in areas she'd only heard of from travelers or not at all. And unfortunately, death or misery were usually the endings of those unfamiliar visions.

Because she knew nothing of the people she saw or of the foreign lands they lived in, in the end, she could do nothing to help them.

That alone forced a great guilty burden to anchor itself in Propheta's heart without remorse.

Turbulent years passed by before she realized time and helping others had taught her a very important lesson.

A possibility for salvation existed.

If she used her gift for good and lived the life of a generous woman with compassion for others, then God had to at least consider accepting her. He created beings in his own image, and even the most bizarre of talents surely held purpose in the chaos that was the world.

Because she knew this: the world was in a desperate chaos. Strolling through the abysmal remains of villages and towns, some charred beyond recognition, others displaying lines of the dead in its streets, told her this.

Yet despite the tragic nature of the world, she understood her sight held a purpose.

The very journey she embarked on, in fact, was conceived in a vision she'd had days ago. And while normally Propheta would let the vision play out without interruption, this time around, something very unexpected occurred. Something that sealed her destiny and gave her the strength to stride for a chance at salvation not just for herself, but her sons.

For once, in her twenty two years of living, she knew where to go. What faraway land to travel to.

The vision had darkened ambiguously at the very end, giving her little chance to guess if she would survive the meeting. Because while the man in the vision had been magnificent to behold, a danger lurked in his eye that she hadn't yet encountered nor could place an emotion for.

However, she had a bargaining tool far more precious than money or territory itself.

Knowledge of the man's future.

And what man wouldn't crave to know himself in the years to come?

**Part III: The Nature of Fear**

It took Propheta seven days to reach the city from her vision, and not a moment too soon.

Even though she hardly ventured outside of her village, she knew of how the world worked now that the disease took thousands by the hour. When the first outbreaks had begun, images danced chaotically in her head, informing her of what terror overpowered everyone from the monarchs down to the peasants. A world of dense fear and religious fever shook humanity down to its core and the desperate attempts at cleansing away the sickness, only caused great misfortune to travelers who passed by without awareness, often being murdered or sacrificed unjustly.

She had nearly stumbled upon such persons on the fifth day of travel. A group of fourteen or fifteen white cloaked men, bearing angry, red repentance marks upon their naked backs, dragged a man down from a tree he'd hid in and proceeded to stone him to death.

Their chants to the sky came soon after, begging God that with this death, the illness would cease.

Propheta quickly moved on, knowing there was nothing she could have done for the man. Which didn't exactly make it any easier, but she remembered that this journey wasn't just for herself. It was for her sons as well.

As she strolled through diseased street after diseased street, miles away, her youngest son, Astron baked in a hellish fury, the sickness ravaging his four year old body. And Vici, her firstborn, had only a matter of time before he succumbed to the same symptoms.

Just thinking that they could both be dead by the time she returned, forced an ache unlike any Propheta ever felt to slumber inside her. If death indeed did occur, no amount of goodness she did would ever make up for her abandonment.

She remembered when the deaths first began, how neighbors would swarm around her home, terrified and confused of this epidemic that killed everything it touched and left their loved ones looking as if they had kissed death's black lips themselves. Propheta had gotten few visions that could explain the fear and hysteria in the air, and the lack of answers stirred that fear into outright terror.

She did know, however, even though it hardly mattered now, that the disease had ravaged unfamiliar cities and kingdoms farther east of them and that they were not the first bearers of such gruesome ends.

Eventually, her neighbors took to sheltering themselves, realizing that the disease spread through the air. And she was just barely able to avoid the decimation of her home from the riots they'd nearly created.

**Part IV: Bittersweet Luck Revealed**

Blinking against stubborn tears, Propheta gazed longingly at the clay engraving of the lady Zita, helpless to the somberness and relief coursing through her. Only because she caught a glimpse of the engraving in her vision, did she know her destination. And she knew her destination because of her mother.

Long ago, before her mother had turned cold and dismissive toward the world and her family, she'd been a free spirit, born into a poor family. A story so commonly told, and often ending so tragically.

In the very city she stood, her mother, decades ago, had been hired by a family as a servant. Although treated unjustly at times and jilted out of proper means of income, her mother never lost hope in her situation nor hated those who harbored ill intent toward her.

_"Zita helped me in those years," she used to recount, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Everyone who worked for the wealthy, knew of her, especially here in the city. Not even a hundred years ago she had worked for a rich family who abused and mistreated her. Rather than anger, however, she practiced forgiveness toward them and love to those who had harmed her. The household employing her, eventually declared her a part of their family because her love and devotion to them and to God, changed their lives and bettered them. Made them good people."_

To think now that her mother ever spoke so fondly about her own childhood almost seemed comedic. Until her date of death, she made sure no one could escape her poisonous moods. And somewhere along the way, she'd lost the lessons she'd learned from Zita altogether.

But Propheta never forgot the story, passing it on to Vici when he grew old enough to understand, maybe because it helped remind her that once long ago, her mother existed as a beautiful, passionate soul. And it was far better to remember her in this way than what she had become in the last years of her life.

The engraving before her appeared just as her mother had described - Zita tending to a child's wound with one hand while a halo hovered inches above her, indicating how holy she was already regarded as.

For a moment, Propheta contemplated the incredible luck involved in knowing her mother's childhood tale of Zita. If not for recognizing the features, she would have never guessed to come here through the vision.

Gracious luck indeed. And she hoped it would not run out for the hours to come.

**Part V: A Final Warning**

"Stay back," the blacksmith warned, cloth covering his mouth.

Propheta frowned, but obeyed the command. "I require help, sir."

"I am out of business until the harvest," he muttered, one hand gathering his tools up as he snuck her quick glares.

"I am not looking for a weapon. Only a location."

The man reluctantly paused, scanning her form again with a grunt.

"Where?"

"It is a palace," Propheta recalled rapidly, eyes briefly closing as pieces of the vision manifested themselves before her. "Three men reside upon thrones, terribly pale and with the strangest eyes. They-."

"Volterra," the man interrupted sullenly, eyes suddenly wide and cautious.

"Volterra," she repeated, smiling slowly. "Thank you."

Lifting away his handkerchief, the man appeared on the verge of divulging something very important.

Eventually, however, he decided against it and stuffed the cloth back over his mouth to keep out the poisoned air.

His agitation, though, receded to something Propheta recognized rather easily.

Pity interlaced with fear. Aimed at her.

He scurried away without a single word, and Propheta knew enough to interpret this alone as a bad omen.

Still, she had not walked for nearly seven days straight just to return home. If she could not dismiss her own fear, then she could at least find courage in the underlining reason of why she came.

Astron and Vici.

And so, to Volterra she journeyed.

**Part VI: The Pale Man's Future**

"Have you come for religious purposes?" the woman inquired, ushering her into the darkened hall.

"No," Propheta admitted, helpless not to admire the woman's beauty. "I wish to speak to a man whom resides in these walls."

The woman offered Propheta a smile, but no warmness rested inside, something Propheta found faintly familiar from her own mother's.

Yet, this devious grin did nothing to weather away at the woman's physique. She walked with an elegant posture composed of confidence and royalty, expertly practiced and desirable for the eternal stretch of legs and heavenly curves seemingly mocking the dress for its own perfection. She had curly, chestnut hair resting in a soft bun - proclaiming innocence even though her lips said otherwise. Through the dimness of the hall, the seer could not make out the woman's eyes, but they seemed to shine regardless with a powerful emotion.

What really stole Propheta's attention, however, was the stunning smoothness of her skin. Like white alabaster, lacking the depressions and aches of age and time. Both of which made enemies of all humans, especially in such an uncertain time.

The woman, quite simply, was the epitome of perfection and had Propheta not had a prior sense of foreboding from the blacksmith and the woman's own strange smile, she would have gladly dismissed her own unease if not for just another moment to gaze upon the breath taking woman.

"To which...man are you referring to? There is Marcus, Caius, and Aro," she informed, fingers swinging themselves in the air. "Aro is my husband, but I have a peculiar feeling he will be the one you will wish to speak to."

"He may be," Propheta agreed quietly, forcing her eyes to the ground. "May I ask who you are?"

Grinning with the same unnerving smile, the woman sped up, her feet hardly making a sound over the stone floors. "I am Sulpicia."

Propheta nearly stumbled over her feet, eyes finding the woman in disbelief this time.

"Come along. You wish to ask a question, yes?" she inquired without so much as glancing back.

Swallowing past the dryness in her throat, Propheta nodded, falling in step once more.

But having learned the woman's name revealed that more than likely, her husband indeed would be the man she had traveled miles to meet. The man in her vision who appeared to be frozen in time.

And this...Sulpicia woman, well, she would not be pleased with what Propheta had to say.

So lost in these heavysome thoughts, the seer hardly realized Sulpicia had suddenly ceased in her footsteps and currently watched her intensely, smile still in place as one hand rested on a curved door handle. Only after an equally intense stare, was Propheta able to note a faint, malevolent, red sparkle shining within the pale woman's eyes.

But as soon as Propheta blinked, Sulpicia's eyes were vacant of the tainted red. So, in her uncertainty, she attributed it to the flickering of the torches throughout the hall.

"I must admit it is rare to have visitors travel here from such a far destination," she acknowledged in an attempt to flatter, tilting her head. "Your journey was admirable through these terrible times and I hope you will have the answer you seek by the end of this evening."

"How is it you know I traveled from so far away?" Propheta questioned, that prior weight of foreboding becoming heavier and heavier within her stomach.

"I can smell the sea on you," was her soft whisper back.

With those cryptic words, Sulpicia gave her a final smile before pushing open the door, and with an eager hand, ushering Propheta forward.

The seer fought back all of the warnings her body sent out, only keeping her dearest sons and the lady Zita in mind. If not for them, she'd have never gained the courage to enter the cold and remarkably just as dusky room.

"Aro, Caius, Marcus," Sulpicia addressed, smile slipping into a smirk as she strutted forward, "I have brought you a woman who wishes to speak to one of you."

Propheta disregarded every other body in the room save for the man sitting directly before her. Because in that stunning moment, no one mattered but him.

The man from her vision.

It took only one glance for her to become tragically entranced by his features. The arch of a perfect brow and the knowing twist of his cherry blossom lips would attract the most stubborn of women. The midnight black of his robes accompanied by long raven hair gave off the notion of royalty and prestige. Again, the pale skin enhanced a youthfulness and beauty not often found in the current world, making him a martyr against old age and death.

But there was truly so much more. In Propheta's mind, for her vision hardly did him proper justice, she had never seen such an utterly beautiful man in her life. Surely an archetype of exquisiteness that even angels would find jealousy in.

Perhaps a full minute was spent simply drinking him in. And in the low light of candles circling the room, she failed to note that his eyes shined with the same tint of malice as Sulpicia's, but far more reserved and shielded.

"You haven't even said a word and you've already entranced her, Aro," came Sulpcia's chuckle, eyes regarding the seer closely.

"It seems I have," the man suddenly spoke, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Propheta jerked out of her euphoric study, instead, scanning the two men sitting on opposite sides of him who had also been in her vision, but did not play nearly a big enough role.

While their features were equally pale and equally handsome with luxurious hair and demanding jaws, she couldn't help but think that they held little appeal when in their counterpart's presence. And in this way, she determined subconsciously, that the man in the middle was the leader.

A silence lingered eerily in the room at her continued lack of speech, and as Propheta remembered her position, she unexpectedly felt as if the room held more than just those visible to her eyes.

Through the shadows clawed into the secretive stone walls, limbs would shift or eyes would search her before retreating back into the darkness. A murmur of a voice here, a near brush there. Parts of bodies becoming visible only for a split second.

Realizing that the room held far more persons in it than she was led to believe, seemed to make her situation all the more sinister.

"What is your name?"

The man from her vision...Aro she now could place, asked this question. And finally, Propheta recalled why she'd ventured to this palace in the first place.

"You may call me Propheta," she answered quietly, wishing her voice didn't waver from her anxiety.

"A prophet?" the man beside Aro, blonde and brooding, chided. "Splendid. Just what we need."

"Now, now, Caius," Aro lightly scolded, lips still set in an inquisitive smile, "shall we not hear her out?"

"As if she will be any different than the other ones," he muttered dismissively.

Instead of indulging the blonde, Aro turned to look down at the woman with a tilt of the head. "I am aware that Propheta is simply a title, my dear. A prophet if I am correct. Tell me your _real_ name."

Impressed by his knowledge, Propheta nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes, but able to garner back some of the courage she'd left her home with.

"You must pardon me for the formal title. I have not been called by my born name since I was a child. I am Viola."

"A beautiful name indeed. And my wife tells me you wish to speak to one of us, having even walked tirelessly for days just to be here. Such determination deserves reward. Whomever it is you have sought out, you will have his complete attention."

Viola sucked in a deep breath, pushing away the hazy spell in the air begging her to forego her mission. Her thoughts weren't entirely with her at the moment and a devious side wanted nothing more than to indulge in watching Aro for the rest of her time there.

But a sudden image of Aston's yellowed eyes shutting for a final time, reawoke her motivation.

Tightening her jaw, Viola's eyes ascended to Aro's. It took all her will not to become side tracked by his features.

"If you are Aro, then you are indeed the man I wish to speak to," she proclaimed steadily. "You may not believe in the words of a woman who claims to carry knowledge of things to come, but regardless, I hope you will hear me out for the information I carry will greatly determine your future."

One of Aro's perfect eyebrows rose in curiosity, but Viola knew he was only indulging her.

"I have had a vision of you," she continued, unperturbed by the lack of faith. "And to prove my sincerity, I will divulge a piece of knowledge I learned about you."

"Do tell," he offered with the slightest of surprise in his tone.

Caius only shifted impatiently in his throne.

"You are not a mortal," she revealed. "Nor a human."

This time, both men sitting on each side of Aro, turned their eyes her way. Caius with a suspicious glare and the man she could only label as Marcus, with a detached interest.

Somewhere in the room, Sulpicia still watched her like a hawk, but Viola disregarded the woman's presence. She was here for Aro, not anyone else.

"My, that is...intriguing, and unexpected. If I am not a human, as you say, then pray tell, dearest, what could I possibly be?" Aro asked with the same light hearted smile.

Only now, Viola wasn't fooled. He may have carried a face that could melt a woman's heart, but she could tell the words were structured carefully. And that her knowledge was dangerous.

"To be honest, I do not know," Viola admitted, risking a step forward. "And for the most part, I do not wish to know. Then again, it is for the most part. While your origins fail to make themselves known to me, I am aware of one incredible miracle that God surely must have blessed you with. And if this miracle is able to be bargained, I will share with you not only your future, but the name of the woman in this future who will provide you with a love you have never experienced."

Through the thick silence, a low snarl emerged. Viola very well knew the owner of such a grotesque noise, but she ignored Aro's wife. Upon meeting her, the seer knew they would not remain on good terms for very long. Better for the moment that the false pretenses were dropped rather than later.

"To what miracle are you referring to?" Aro pressed in confusion, ignoring his wife's disapproval for the moment.

"Your blood," Viola answered as if she was speaking to a slow child. "It holds healing capabilities that has allowed you to live after death. It allows you immunity from old age, from deterioration, from...disease."

"That is impossible," Caius denied. "No being can conquer death."

Viola only stared at Aro knowingly, forgetting the unhealthy glow of his eyes. Her pale blue gaze practically announced that she knew there to be absolute truth in her words.

And at this conviction, Aro's own gaze shifted from indulgement into a faint surprise.

"Perhaps you are something...different," he mused thoughtfully, shifting forward in his throne.

"She knows nothing," the blonde quickly regarded, scanning her with mistrust.

Marcus stayed silent, but he did not once look away from her.

"Aro...dear, I think you've had your fun with this poor woman. Shan't we-."

"Your curiosity is piqued," Viola interrupted with realization sparkling in her eyes, finally feeling comfortable enough to lower her hood. "I assure you that what I see is truth. It may not be coated in promised happiness or prosperity, but I hardly think one expects this from a true prophet. We reflect the nature of this world, and often, that nature is far more ugly than we could ever anticipate. For once in my life, I have been able to track down someone from my visions. You have little idea of how much joy this brings me. I have watched deaths I had no chance of preventing. Lives ruined. For some reason, my visions have always held a particular attraction to tragedy. But not now. You, Aro, a being I have found by chance, beholds one of the few futures where tragedy is not an outcome. And I will be more than happy to tell you of what is to come. Patience is required, but I do not fear that is something you lack."

Her proclamation further silenced the room, and again, the barest sign of movement around her was caught out of the corner of her eyes.

Through it all, however, Viola only absorbed Aro's stare.

"I am to guess you require my blood in exchange for my...future?"

Viola nodded harshly, no longer able to detect what lay in Aro's voice. Nor his features. Quite suddenly, his wore an emotionless mask.

"A small feat, I should say for what is to come your way."

"You will no doubt sell the blood."

This nasty swipe came from Sulpicia.

"I hadn't even thought of that," Viola murmured in surprise, inclining her head briefly toward the outline of the woman. "I assure you my use for the blood is not for personal gain, although...it is personal."

"The plague," Aro deduced easily, scanning her. "You do not appear sickened by it."

"For reasons unknown to me, I've been spared by the illness even though I have come in contact with it. My son, Aston, however, is currently suffering for my good fortune. And I fear my eldest, Vici, will soon succumb to the same fate. I care not if you think I have selfish intentions for this blood. I should hope you only have to look upon me for conviction. I need this medicine for them or else they will die."

Caius scoffed, but to the room's surprise, Viola threw a glare at him, far more poisonous than even she anticipated. "You have had eternity to grow cold toward humanity. Do not dare try scolding me for compassion you have long ago abandoned."

The blonde physically restrained a reply only because Aro raised a cautious hand, that infuriating smile returning to his lips.

"I find myself amazed to agree with young Viola here, brother. We have long ago passed the threshold of wanting to save others from death. Who are we to reprimand a mother's love for her children?"

Even the mystique and command in his voice, emulated seduction, and Viola quickly had to shake off the tingling in her stomach or else she'd forget her thoughts altogether.

"Will you agree to my terms?" she asked, again, unable to read any of Aro's aristocratic features.

"Blood of my own in exchange for important information regarding my future?" Aro pondered, a pale finger tapping at his chin thoughtfully.

"Your own?" Sulpicia unexpectedly screeched, brows furrowing. "I acknowledge you are fond of playing your games, Aro, but offering something so precious as your own blood for false pretenses is a bit sadistic...even for you."

Viola met Sulpicia's scalding stare with a pensive, tight lipped smile, and whatever it was Sulpicia caught in the seer's eyes...well, she did not care for it one bit.

"I am his wife!" she exclaimed arrogantly, once flawless features morphing into pinched fury. "You claim a woman will give him love unlike he has ever felt in his life? Do not be misguided by stupidity. We have been united for over a millennia. I have provided him with everything he could ever want and will continue to. No amount of lies in your childish and sickened mind will ever take that away."

Strangely, Viola refrained from any anger or frustration herself, and she could tell after a moment, that this had been expected of her.

Instead, she ignored the woman and fought her eyes back to Aro.

"This remains to be your decision. I am bargaining for the lives of my children, yes. But I also wish to show you that a beautiful future exists should you say yes. And that this woman...I do not understand the culture she comes from, but she fascinates even me."

Aro's finger still tapped insistently at his jaw, and for the first time, Viola grew nervous.

While Aro never admitted to what he was, she knew already that he held great power and had been living for a period of time previously unmatched to any other. It would be so easy for him to shoo her away for the inconvenience. Desperately easy, in fact, especially since everyone in the room regarded her words as nothing more than absurdity.

The thought of coming back to Aston and Vici, empty handed, caused a paralyzing stab to impale her lungs, nearly depleting her of oxygen.

"Tell me a little bit of this future of mine," Aro finally announced, hands at his sides now. "I will make my decision after this."

Beside him, Caius rolled his eyes, but Marcus held the same level of interest Aro did.

Disembodied voices passed around her like a wave, and she didn't even need to see Sulpicia to know a vengeful glare was aimed her way.

"Whatever it is you are, I understand you have mates. Soul mates, in a sense," she began, eyes briefly closing as strands of her vision reappeared. "Although Sulpicia claims to have had you for over a millennia, in my heart and head, I know her not to be your mate. And I do not mean to make you sound cold in your decision, but it is my understanding that you never bothered to search for your mate? You took Sulpicia because she already adored you and this decision was easier for the plans you had."

When no one spoke after a few seconds, Viola snapped open her eyes.

Aro was leaning even further in his chair than he'd been moments ago, smile gone, but features pensive.

"You are correct, though I hardly think my decision to be a fault. What makes you think my darling wife does not provide me all of the love and fulfillment I crave, already? Who is not to say she is already my soul mate?"

The question momentarily confused Viola, so she redirected her gaze to the eyes studying her on Aro's left.

"I have insulted your wife this evening," Viola pointed out. "Yet, you have done nothing to prevent me from doing this. Your previous question was asked out of a malevolent fun, lacking the conviction that loved ones share. The mates that exist - the bonds shared in your world...they would never allow for such unhappiness. Mates will care for one another, defend one another, fight for each other, and love without boundaries. Existence is no longer seen without them. If you truly loved Sulpicia, I would not be so far into my words as I am now."

Another snarl ripped through the room, but Aro ignored it completely, eyes transfixed with a strange glint, on Viola.

"You seem convinced of this," he observed calmly.

"I am only referring to one of your own," she answered, eyes falling back to Marcus. "He knows what I speak of. I can tell just by looking at him that he knows each and every one of my words to be true."

She remained convinced that the haunted expression scurrying over Marcus's features, had been unintentional, but it supported her theory strongly.

Marcus had met his mate.

And from his appearance, also had lost her.

The man in question rapidly turned his head away, but Viola knew all the eyes in the room were set on him.

To save the man from facing their gazes, the seer spoke up once more.

"I have seen your mate, Aro. Your true mate. The mate you should have been waiting all these years for rather than binding yourself to a woman you do not even remotely love," Viola boldly spoke. "And she is...marvelous. A passion unmarked by even my own mother in her youth. Beauty a blessing from Venus herself. And such wit that could challenge scholars in the prime of their years. Of course I only have seen glimpses of her, but when she smiles in my head, the worries stored beneath the mask you wear, suddenly fall away."

She knew her words to be enormous, but now, longing sat within her own voice because she had indeed witnessed the first meeting of the two. And how instantly, it appeared as if they finally had a certainty in life, something that would not blow away in the taunting wind or ripped away by fickle death.

How joyous it was to finally witness a vision of happiness as opposed to death or loss or needless struggle against a cruel destiny.

To her disappointment, of course, not everyone in the room agreed.

"She is more pathetic than the other ones!" Caius exclaimed loudly, if not angrily. "Let me rid her personally, Aro."

"Let _me_ rid her," Sulpicia pleaded, a sickening pleasure entering her formerly soothing voice. "How dare she come into our palace, insult us, then defile our love? Come Aro. For once tonight, see reason and what this woman really is. A disgusting fraud."

Viola detected the slightest trace of desperation at the end of her words, and with a quick glance at Aro, she could tell he'd noted it as well.

By now, the movement in the darkness of the room was far more apparent, even though everyone still kept to the shadows. Whispers just barely detectable to her ears, filled the room, and throughout it all, Aro listened patiently, his face void of any faltering emotion.

When he finally spoke, all the other the voices faded away.

"I take it there is more to your vision, dear?"

"Yes," Viola insisted, inhaling deeply so she could confidently relay her next words, "but I will not reveal them to you unless you agree to my previous offer."

"And what is this hidden information?" he continued, ignoring her attempt at negotiation.

Sighing, Viola closed her eyes again, willing the image to appear once more.

"I know...the year of her birth. A year that will require patience from you. I know you will first encounter her not even two months after her eighteenth birthday in a city not yet begun and seemingly composed of...metal? I also know, but cannot exactly pronounce...her full name."

The vision before her scattered into oblivion when Viola unexpectedly felt herself being yanked backwards by the hair, an arctic arm locking itself around her throat without mercy.

She bounced back into a firm, unyielding body that forced her to face forward while struggling to support herself in the uncomfortable arch of her back. One hand, again, snarled itself into her own mass of short, blonde and with a vicious tug, tightened the arm restricting the steady flow of oxygen.

Fear shot into Viola instantly, especially when she realized no one was doing anything to help her escape from Sulpicia's clutches.

"Aro," his wife demanded coolly, fingers tightening into a fist, pulling some hairs out by the roots while a strangled whimper fled Viola's lips, "let me have her, won't you? You know she speaks only of lies, as did the other ones."

"O-o-other ones?" Viola stuttered, choking against the brutal vice across her throat.

"Of course there have been other seers!" Caius mentioned, amused at her painful restraint. "All of them at one time or another have come to our palace, claiming they have an insight of our futures and that to turn them away would lead to death itself. Of course in return, all they need is a night's worth of food or perhaps a pretty pouch of golden coins or the very blood in our veins. If I saw to these matters myself, I would have you false prophets eradicated from this world. A waste of time and breath."

"B-but-."

"Surely you didn't think Aro would be blinded by such blatant lies!" Sulpicia screeched tauntingly, twisting the seer's head to the left so fast that a dangerous crack sounded through the room. And with a strength Viola could not fathom a woman to have. "You are another who seeks only our blood. A scum I cannot quite scrub away from this world. You are far younger than I and yet you have already mothered two bastard children you cannot even care for? How wretched of an existence you must live, telling your village of the "visions" in your head, almost believing them yourself. All the while, your sons lay ill in your home, ready to embrace death. But no...here is what I think. I think they burdened you and you needed a new life. So, you made up lies like the whore I know you are and presented them to us so you could escape your filthy, vile children!"

Tears were streaming out of Viola's eyes, blinding her to the men before her. A sob escaped, but she did not give in to the pain of the words. She alone knew why she had made the journey. And a wicked woman would not convince her otherwise.

So while the tears fell and her throat chose between inhaling much needed oxygen or emitting more sobs, Viola physically settled on fighting against Sulpicia's hold, attempting to twist, to pull, to push, to duck, and even to bite.

But the woman seemed to be made of marble, only laughing grotesquely in her ear before effectively ceasing all movements with another tightening of her fist, forcing actual strands out this time.

"Let me kill this liar for you, my husband," Sulpicia lovingly requested, sending him an alluring grin. "I know this is your wish."

"I'M NOT LYING!" Viola screamed through a hoarse voice, helpless not to defend herself as she tried to find Aro's eyes. "I see these visions in my head. I've seen them since I was a child! They have plagued me with fates I could never change. Please, I only came here to help you and save my sons! If you only agree, I will tell you everything about he-."

"If you speak another word, I will snap your neck and wear it as a crown," Suplicia darkly promised in her ear.

And that voice, lacking sympathy or life for that matter, not only amplified Viola's fear, but ushered in a new understanding.

Whatever it was in their blood that allowed them immortality...it also signified them as predators. Dangerous, menacing, and ungodly powerful.

"It appears I have my answer," Aro finally spoke, standing from his position.

Marcus and Caius remained seated, and in a terrifyingly clear moment, Viola could fill in the rest of her vision from where it got dark and uncertain.

They would slaughter her where she stood.

To her surprise, however, Marcus spoke up in a deep, slow voice.

"Only a touch is required to see if she speaks the truth, Aro."

A hidden meaning existed in these words, but for the life of her, Viola couldn't determine what they meant. All she knew was that in his own way, Marcus was attempting to save her life.

"Just because Didyme is dead does not mean you must drag Aro into your own misery!" Sulpicia spat at him.

These words silenced Marcus altogether, and with a frown, he turned away, his thoughts once more sealed off.

"That was cruel, even for you, dear," Aro mentioned, gazing at her.

"You call me cruel?" Sulpicia laughed mockingly, shaking Viola's form in the process. "You are the one who murdered her! Your own sister! I daresay I learned only from the best."

The atmosphere ignited with tension, those invisible eyes Viola could feel, watching Aro and Sulpicia with great concentration, all of them ignoring Marcus, more for his own sake.

Without warning, Sulpicia flung the seer to the ground, causing her knees to smash painfully into the stone as great gasps made their way from Viola's throat.

Above her, Sulpicia stalked in short steps over to her husband's form, features surrendering to sorrow and regret. Two elegant hands slipped over Aro's cheeks, and with a shake of a bowed head, Sulpicia sighed.

"I am sorry, husband. Those are words I...should not have said them. You have provided me with a life I feel at times, undeserving of. Please, forgive me for speaking as if I did not care for I assure you, I do. You have made the decisions you have to be here at this time and there is nothing more I could love you for than that."

Viola trembled on the floor, trying to fend of the painful throbbing in both knees as she listened in hopelessly to the conversation above. A conversation lacking so much in honest regret that it briefly made her queasy.

And this queasiness quickly transformed into out right nausea as a familiar tingle ensnared her. A tingle beginning in her chest before shooting up into her brain where it felt as if it were blocking out everything around her in a muted gray, casting instead, different scenery altogether.

On the cold, stony floors of Volterra, Viola shuddered weakly as a vision stormed through her head, causing her eyelids to shuffle back and forth like a haywire metronome.

Seconds later when the vision had all but disappeared, the seer cranked open her eyes, a new wave of tears ready to be shed.

"What have you seen?"

That voice, once enamoring and fascinating, now only sent eternal shivers through Viola's form. But to maintain some shred of dignity, she did answer.

"You have made up your mind. Because of this, your future has just changed. As has the woman's," Viola whispered, blinking through the sting of tears as an agonizing pain developed in her chest. "Oh, Aro...you have changed everything. So very much for the worst. And here I thought for once, I could help someone."

More tears released themselves, and Viola let them fall, the newest vision still branded firmly in her mind.

No one responded to this, but Sulpicia did pull Aro toward her trembling form.

"Shall we put her out of her misery?" she suggested. "Better yet, I smell no sickness in her blood. You know how those humans that are, carry a particularly disagreeable taste. It will be nice to taste something healthy for once."

Aro stared down at the woman, eyes focusing in on the open scrape on her knee she'd acquired from being pushed to the floor.

"Yes, a healthy dinner will be in order."

Before Viola could blink, Aro was bent over her, positioned on one knee, eyes scurrying inhumanly fast over her.

"I must thank you for providing such an entertaining evening for myself, my dear. You almost intrigued me enough to want to-," he stopped his hand before touching her forehead, instead, removing a stray strand "Alas, my wife is right. It would be foolish to pass your blood up. It is so very rare we are able to have a meal that is not tainted by this plague. One I hope does not last too much longer or else we may have to began hunting once more. And I do so hate to come home dirty."

A few low laughs scattered around the room, but Viola only gazed at Aro with a small smile. Gone were the tears, or the fear, or the realization that she was staring the most beautiful angel of death in the face.

"You will pay with unknown grief in centuries to come, for your laziness, cruelty and impatience. I only regret to inform you...that so will your mate."

"I am his mate!" Sulpicia loudly screamed. "I am-."

As the woman continued screaming, Viola studied Aro, tuning out the room until she literally felt as if they were the only two in it.

"Fret not, Aro," she all but whispered light heartedly, witnessing his hunger steadily rise, "you will meet another seer in your lifetime. By then, you will be more convinced of our talents. Fortunately, she too will elude you. Much like your mate whose heart will never be open again, leaving you to drown in a loneliness you alone are responsible for."

She couldn't tell if the words had any effect on the man because all he did was stare back down at her without emotion. But Viola knew with bittersweet realization, that those were the last words she wanted to leave her mouth before death.

So, when Caius's patience snapped and he too sped to Aro's side, gazing down at her with a repulsive lust, Viola knew she would get her wish.

The first horrendous stab had been made into a vein throbbing erratically in her neck, torn open by two unnaturally sharp teeth. The pain quickly outgrew that of giving birth to both her sons.

Joining Aro was Caius who snapped open her wrist and greedily sucked up the crimson awaiting him beneath the skin.

After a frighteningly short time, Aro consumed enough blood to cause a truly remarkable event - her soul detaching from her body, ceasing the hellish pain she'd been mercilessly experiencing.

More figures revealed themselves from the shadows of the room, eager to indulge in an unsickened meal while Sulpicia only stood above her body, grinning triumphantly as one hand played with Aro's hair at the nape of his neck.

Viola's last thoughts before disappearing were how excruciating dying was without someone there to hold you. And that hopefully when death found her sons, they'd at least have each other.

* * *

**In my story, Marcus is aware Aro killed Didyme. Also, Sulpicia is a manipulative bitch. Which is fun to write, is it not? And in Viola's last words to Aro, she was referring to Alice as the seer who'd elude him. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to those who bothered on story altering and favoriting this. Even more, those who took the time to review. They help tremendously with releasing a chapter. Certainly took a few days, but I wanted to be careful because like the previous chapter, a lot occurs in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Present Day**

Sulpicia gazed at herself in the mirror, readjusting the neckline of the gown as a smirk tugged at her lips. Her long, pale fingers playfully pulled the emerald fabric down until the tops of her snow white breasts were salaciously displayed. The ancient ruby 'V' pendant hanging just above her breasts, proudfully displaying not only the insignia of her family, but the man she belonged to, was twirled casually in between two fingers.

"Seductive," she purred to herself, hand traveling up to cup a pale cheek before sliding backwards into the thick mass of caramel locks enticingly displayed down to the last bulge of bone in her spine. Sulpicia wasn't normally a fan of the modern day methods of hair treatment as she thought it ruined already perfectly natural hair. However, the shade lighter dye really did look rather entrancing on her.

"Is there anything else you need, mistress?"

Knocked out of her study, Sulpicia twirled around, only to find Abdul standing dutifully by the entrance to her chambers.

"Anything I need? Whatever for, Abdul. I have everything," she proclaimed breezily, slithering toward him. "Although, it would be wise to remember one thing while in my chambers."

"I am sorry, what is that, mistress?" the man quickly asked, almond eyes wide and remorseful.

In seconds, Sulpicia zoomed to his position, grabbing at his olive-skinned wrist with a vicious grip. Before the man could so much as blink, Sulpicia twisted the arm over itself three times, various bones cracking like baby twigs beneath a boot.

Abdul's feet gave out on him and with a strangled yelp, he descended to his knees, shards of pale bone jutting out agonizingly out of his skin.

"Never, _ever_ interrupt me when I am ready to display myself for my husband," she hissed, voice dripping with only the foulest of venom. "As a member of Aro's guard and my own personal servant, I would have thought you'd long ago learned this lesson."

"I-I apologize, mistress," he choked, maroon eyes staring hopelessly at his deformed arm.

"Ah, but you still did it. One must know their place, Abdul. Rest assured that after I return, this hand will not be attached to your person. I will have Aro see to this event personally."

The man could only nod, teeth gnashed in his cheeks as blood pooled inside his mouth.

After a moment of regarding him boredly, Sulpicia released the vampire with a disgusted frown, brushing a stray lock that invaded her sight.

"Do enjoy your limb while you can. Heaven forbid you had much use of it over these centuries anyway."

With that, she swerved around his bent form, scooping her dress up in the process, and exited the room.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

"I say we send in a spy to watch them!" Caius declared, pacing murderously to and from his desk. "They will slip up somewhere along the way."

For once, Aro reflected Marcus's unspoken sentiments, only sighing as his brother caved further into his anger.

"As loathsome as I am to admit our defeat, I truly don't feel the effort should be made to watch every move the Cullens make. Their daughter is properly identified and for the moment, they have broken no rules."

Aro didn't like relaying the words, especially after recalling that they themselves had made the mistake of not being made aware of all the details. It made them appear disorganized and sloppy.

And although Caius had taken great joy in dismembering their misinformed source, Irina, none of their moods were truly sated when realizing no blood would be shed.

A disappointment, really.

Then again, compared to the alternative he had witnessed in Alice's mind, perhaps their..._honorable_ retreat...had been necessary.

"But they need to be dealt with!"

Marcus skillfully pulled his book closer to his eyes, hiding his facial expressions, and Aro couldn't help but emit a small grin at the gesture.

"We will deal with them," he assured, clasping his hands behind him. "But at a later time. News of this event has traveled and it is more imperative than ever to remind our world of the positions we hold. If it would soothe you, brother, you may search for wrongdoings elsewhere from our kind and bring the culprit in. I promise our punishment will reach even the ears of any who dare to think of rebelling."

"It will be useless now. They believe us to be weak!" Caius argued hastily, knowing the discussion would soon be irrelevant.

"Has your time on the throne taught you nothing?" Aro mused, his grin growing as fury continued to dominate his brother's features. "Fear, Caius, is an enforcer unlike any else. A disagreement occurred between the Cullens and ourselves. Any who dare think to take further action, however, will meet a most unbecoming end. Thousands of our kind still know this, and in time, their rebellious nature will submit to the fear of consequence. That is politics, and ultimately, government. A most enjoyable mix that has been responsible for the rise of great empires."

"And yet, most of these empires are nothing but mere tourist destination," Caius retorted in distaste. "We will meet the same ends if we do not take action."

"If you are suggesting a vacation to Istanbul so we may soak in the remarkable history of the Ottoman Empire, then I advise you to run this by Heidi. She so does love to travel."

Marcus released a cough at this, well disguised for a deep laugh while Aro merely continued a shameless beam.

"Must you treat everything as a joke?" the blonde scowled.

Aro pondered this for a moment before smirking. "Only if it is funny."

Caius rolled his eyes, but in response, his anger slowly began ebbing away.

"We are not nearly finished with this discussion," he reminded, picking up his robes. "And I expect this to be a topic again in our next meeting."

"Of course," Aro nodded solemnly. "Where are you off to, if I may ask?"

Brushing past him, Caius clenched his teeth together. "I know you have never debated something with yourself, brother, but if you ever do so, you will realize it is an infuriating and fruitless task. One may even suddenly find themselves in a murderous mood."

"Hmm...that does sound rather appalling," Aro noted cheerfully. "Do keep Athendora in one piece."

A growl was the only response his brother emitted before stalking out of the room.

Just as Aro turned to confide a private thought to Marcus, another figure strutted in.

"Dearest, I knew I'd find you here!"

Aro's shoulders stiffened for a moment, but he quickly composed his features before turning to take in his wife.

"Sulpicia...as much as I adore your presence, I must ask why it is you always feel as if you may burst into this study, unannounced? You know enough to keep away when Marcus, Caius, and myself are in discussion."

The woman shrugged off the complaint, seductive grin in place.

"Caius was leaving and I assumed you were finished."

Remaining silent, Aro moved forward, eying his wife with a sudden interest.

"You are looking most delightful this evening," he observed, offering her a gloved hand.

Sulpicia gladly snaked her own hand within his palm, allowing him to beckon her out of the room.

"Surely you recall what monumental celebration will be upon us in one week?"

For a moment, Aro grew confused, unable to recall any that he deemed important enough to mention. But of course he wore a mask of pensive thought, knowing how his wife hated when he grew forgetful.

Unfortunately, by the time they reached the throne room, Aro still could not pick out the meaningful date Sulpicia spoke of.

"Come now, Aro. You cannot be so forgetful as to not remember," she chided lightly.

At his lack of speech, Sulpicia's smile descended.

Turning to the other bodies in the room, she swiftly demanded, "Out! All of you!"

Alec and Jane, conversing near the entrance in hushed tones, shot them both blank stares. Felix's casual stretches were paused as he too stared at the couple.

"Is this what you wish, master?" Jane inquired neutrally, peering at Aro for confirmation.

"You need not answer to him, Jane," Sulpicia interrupted, fixing the girl with a cold glare. "I am his wife. Our commands are of equal importance."

Aro slipped his hand out of her tight hold, feeling a faint headache approaching.

"Will you simply tell me, dear, what we are celebrating in a week from today?"

Her head snapped to him, eyes still narrowed. However, they softened when he showered her with his complete, undivided attention.

"Our matrimonial anniversary, Aro," she informed proudly. "Two-thousandth to be exact. Quite an achievement when one compares it to most modern day relationships."

Unable to hide his surprise, Aro slowly released a smile.

"Has it been so long already?"

"I know what you speak of. It hardly feels like any time has passed."

Aro nodded, lost in his thoughts.

"Happy 2,000th," Felix interjected, arms reaching upward once more. "We should hold a party."

"A fantastic idea," Sulpicia agreed, sending the vampire a satisfied nod.

"I am personally not a fan of parties," Alec murmured, more to himself, but aware that the others could hear him. "I still recall the one we hosted in 1799. The Swedish coven thought it'd be fun, displaying to us the humans they'd trained to obey their every command. One nearly wounded Athendora after escaping and finding a knife. I'm not unsettled often, but Caius's rage successfully kept me from ever enjoying the company of other covens."

"Didn't he kill all but two of the Swedes?" Felix recalled thoughtfully. "After he drank dry all of the humans, that is."

"He did," Alec confirmed. "The only reason he kept the two of them alive was to spread fear into others who'd be stupid enough to attack his wife."

"Aro would not have let either of the two live had it been me," Sulpicia assured, attaching herself to his arm.

"Of course not, dear," he remarked, truthfully unsure what his reaction would have been.

But he could vividly remember the details of Caius's anger that night. An anger only able to be matched by his own, and one his brother has never displayed since.

"Perhaps a party is not the best of ideas," Aro decided, eyes raking down his wife's gown. "Why not a small celebration?"

Immediately, Sulpicia merged away from him, frown quickly returning.

"We are the oldest partners in existence," she argued. "Why should we not show ourselves off? Others will know what love is and may become inspired by our vows."

Aro recognized just by a simple scan, why Sulpicia pushed so rigorously for a public ceremony. In ways even he unfortunately found to be the taddest bit tiring, he understood his wife wanted this out of vanity. At times, she was known to be vastly conceited both by power and beauty, something for the most part, he remained indifferent to.

However, hosting a celebration to inform others of their ancient matrimony would only serve her ego, and for some reason or other, Aro didn't much care for such a display. While he was not against a recognition of their vows they'd taken so long ago, he did not want to show himself off so outlandishly, especially after the uncertainty most of their kind still held of him.

The more he thought over this in fact, the more he wished his wife would have forgotten the date altogether.

"Maybe I can convince you?" she breathed suggestively, forcing her shoulders back a few inches.

Aro offered her a devious grin, but he did not indulge her in the attention she so desired from such a revealing dress.

"I am afraid my decision is final," he decided.

Her lips grew tight around the edges, and he knew she'd be deeply unpleased with him for the next few days.

Still, she was always the first to crack when they were held in their mute stalemates. So in this way, he didn't fret too much on her disapproval.

"If that is your decision, then I am helpless to grant you it," she finally announced.

This answer did surprise Aro, half expecting her to pursue the argument a bit more.

"You have something else in mind?" he picked out.

"I do, as a matter of fact. In honor of our 2,000th year of marriage, I will be leaving within the hour to attain you a gift."

Now, Aro's curiosity grew.

"A gift?"

"Yes," she smiled, nothing but a chilling promise residing in it. "For so long, we have had humans come to us. And while we have never been without a meal, we have been restricted to only what stood in front of us. This is why I will procure someone special for you, Aro. Someone you have not tried yet, or perhaps have, but only very rarely."

"Whom did you have in mind?"

"It is still a gift," she teased with a coy grin. "I cannot divulge every detail as of yet. But I do have an idea of a taste you were particularly fond of in past centuries. I am also aware you have not had the taste in a long while."

"Hmm, you do now have me intrigued. When shall I expect your return?"

"Well, with the amount of choices I will have, I cannot say exactly. But most likely, expect me back on this very same evening, seven days from now. I am aware you have a tense meeting with a coven from Albania not even two days later, so time will be of the essence and we will have to enjoy ourselves in the days available. But in seven days, I will present you your gift on our special day."

Before he could utter a single word, she stepped forward and pressed a tender, loving kiss on his own lips, one hand splaying down his chest before teasingly removing itself.

"You will love this gift so very much, Aro. I can practically...taste it."

And with a quick wink and determined stride, she sped out of the room.

Aro only stared at the entrance, certainly not expecting what Sulpicia planned to gift him with.

Not that he was complaining. She did have a point about their meals. It wasn't as if they had a buffet to choose from.

And yet, he didn't feel as much as excitement as he knew he ought to have. It really was a touching gesture on her part, but on the other hand, it also held a chance of something going wrong.

Such as exposure.

"Alec, command Gerald and Anton to trail her," he ordered quietly. "As confident as she is, I would hate for her to slip up accidentally and be left with loose ends. I have a belief that she would not quite know what to do. The world has changed greatly since the last time she's stepped out."

Alec nodded, departing immediately.

"Felix, make sure her credit cards are up to date and she has the resources she needs to travel."

The tall vampire also nodded, following Alec's departure.

After the two men were gone, he felt a bit more secure about his wife's hunt.

"May I inquire about something, master?"

He'd nearly forgotten Jane was still in the room, and with a polite smile, he nodded, "Of course, dear one."

"Am I the only one who notices Sulpicia's imbalance of emotion?"

She said this without emotion, but Aro knew she was being as careful as she could with her wording.

"I recognize it as well," he relayed, not feeling the harm of being honest. "Though, I do not confront her about this. With how young she was when I turned her and how quickly it is I molded her into a queen, it is not surprising that she remains so ambitious. And then angered when that ambition is not met."

"Should I have followed her demand?" Jane questioned, stepping toward him.

He could tell just by a quick glance, that ultimately, this is what she had intended to ask him. And a part of him did sympathize for her. Jane followed his orders without a bat of an eyelash, but to have his wife, not always the most patient or friendly of people, request complete obedience from her...well, the idea wasn't exactly the fondest in his head either.

"She may have ambition equal to my own, but when it comes of demands, know you will only ever have to answer to myself, Caius, or Marcus," Aro promised.

The relief flickered ever so briefly in her eyes, but in them, he knew her to be pleased by the answer.

"Thank you, master."

"Of course, Jane."

After she too ventured out of the room, Aro shot a glance at his vacant throne, his meeting with Sulpicia rushing back.

"Has it truly been 2,000 years already?" he mused into the empty room.

An odd thought emerged, and upon further study, Aro wasn't sure what to make of it.

Quite simply, it involved this. Had Sulpicia never mentioned the anniversary, he knew he'd never have recognized the date for what it meant, something he should have because the feat really was quite astounding.

With an agitated sigh, Aro brushed the troublesome thought away. For the moment, he had larger issues to focus on.

So, he turned his attentions to the Albanian coven due to arrive in a little more than a week, wondering how he could convince their leader not to sever ties with his guard. A vampire who was able to play with fire would be a very valuable possession indeed.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

**Eight Days Later**

Demetri was in Ivalo, Finalnd when his cell phone buzzed from the dining room table. The fact that it rang at all meant his assistance would most likely be needed, and in a way, he was relieved. While distancing himself had been a magnificent release of stress on his state of mind, the urge to make his way home eventually crept in as it always did when he stayed so far away.

Plus, picking off the locals didn't supply him with the same amusement as it would have for perhaps Felix or Caius. In fact, for the most part, the town he harbored in, held friendly humans with little conflict among them, making his stay all the more relaxing.

But, he knew work needed to be resumed and with a calm stretch, he answered the cell.

"Demetri, how goes your vacation?"

Stretching backwards on the bed, Demetri allowed himself to relax ever so slightly at the caller's voice.

"As well as I had hoped, master."

"Oh, do drop the formalities, my friend. I ask this of you in concern. You were rather rattled after our trip to Forks for reasons even I could not detect. I should hope you are better."

"Very much so, Aro. And no need to feel alarm. I am already craving to step inside the comforting walls of Volterra."

"I am glad to hear this. Heidi has been quite insistent on calling you, but I honored your wishes and made it clear you were not to be disturbed. Unfortunately, a tiny issue has come up and I am in need of your help. Nothing too stressful, I should hope, but it will most likely require your presence in North America."

Demetri pushed himself up from the bed, a subtle interest developing.

"Who do you need me to track?"

For a few seconds, Aro didn't respond, and this in itself, alerted him that something was off.

"Sulpicia."

In the emptiness of his hotel room, Demetri was able to openly show his shock.

"Sulpicia?" he repeated, eyebrows raised. "I do not understand."

"I will only give you what is important to know as I am unsure whether she is simply playing a game or testing my patience."

"Of course. I will do my best to find a pattern, if one exists."

"I expect nothing more from you, dear friend. As it stands, here is my peculiar problem. Eight days ago, Sulpicia set off to find me a succulent human as a gift. She was expected last night, the date of our two-thousandth anniversary, but she has not yet shown. Gerald and Anton trailed her for the first two days as she made her way through western Europe, but they lost her after she crossed the Atlantic."

"Do you think she is in trouble?"

"No, but it would be rather inattentive for her husband not to at least appear worried that she has not yet shown up. I would search for her myself, but the coven from Albania will be taking refuge here for the next few days and there are matters I must discuss with them now since I have a feeling they will not willingly be taking the journey to Volterra again. Can I trust you with finding my wife and bringing her back, even if she is insolent on the matter?"

"Of course, Aro," Demetri assured, one arm already sliding through a leather jacket. "I will be on a plane within the hour."

"I am constantly in thanks for your ability to take instant action. Know it will be rewarded greatly upon your return."

"There is no need."

"Nonsense! I am partly to blame as I feel my actions have drove you to this retreat from Volterra. But we will save that conversation for another time. Before you depart, take a detour to the lobby. There is a package waiting for you with the perfume I smelled last on Sulpicia. I do not know why she insists on wearing it as she detests most scents that are not her own, but I know it will at least lead you inland and that is a start."

"When do you want me to check in?"

"Whenever there has been progress made."

Demetri nodded firmly to himself, nose twitching already in anticipation. "Take care, Aro."

"And you as well. I know Sulpicia is not always the fondest of swallowing her pride, but I fear she will have to do so, no matter the unsuccessful attempt at attaining me a gift. No harm, really. I will still welcome her with open arms. Happy travels!"

"Thank you."

With that, he snapped the cell phone shut, one hand flying through his coppery, unruly hair. If anything did remain to be seen from the conversation, it would be that Demetri was no better at detecting Aro's moods a millennia later than he'd been upon meeting the man. And that, he determined, had to be what made him such a dangerous enigma.

However, these musings were set aside so he could focus on the complex puzzle before him.

He never gave himself the time to indulge too deeply into his thoughts regarding Aro's wife as the vampire himself could at any time, grab his hand and shuffle through the emotions circulating inside him.

But now that he was alone and Sulpicia seemed to have indeed raced off into the unknown, he could admit this to himself with an almost clear conscious.

He _loathed_ Sulpicia.

Being Aro's wife of course complicated the matter of ever divulging these private thoughts, but his feelings never changed regarding the woman.

Yes, he'd often tried to like her, even attempted to be her servant for a short while because there were times he thought she appeared neglected. It was afterall, difficult to be the wife of a monarch who ruled their kind.

But in that short span of time, he'd learned her to be unnecessarily cruel, ridiculously vain, and short on patience.

He had nearly felt sorry handing over his position to Abdul.

And yet, it had to be done or else he'd have surely acted on an impulse that would compromise his own existence.

Aro's call, on the other hand, proved to be odd in many ways, the most mystifying being why Sulpicia would turn down an opportunity to gather more attention for herself. Surely displaying a human that tempted Aro's instincts, would have caused an admiration to sprout within the palace walls. Not only for attaining the human, but for an independent and successful hunt.

By tradition, any wife of the Volturi kept to their husband's side, a solo venture into the outside world being unheard of. And for the few times the event occurred, it was monitored heavily.

Had Sulpicia returned, bearing the human as a gift, she wouldn't just be admired by the women. No, she'd be catapulted into the ranks of the Volturi three themselves.

But, she was a day late in her promised delivery. And something inside Demetri told him this wasn't intentional.

So, with a mindset of business fully engaged, the vampire sped out of his room, making sure to hit the detour expected of him.

Really, it shouldn't have surprised him that Aro would know where he was, even if his departure had been impromptu. His master liked knowing where his family was.

The girl who presented him with the package at the hotel lobby, desperately tempted Demetri for a moment. She couldn't have been no more than twenty, the lightest strawberry blonde hair he'd ever seen, parted down the sides, but unable to hide the drumbeat of her pulse, taunting him with ripened innocence.

However, he merely threw the girl a bewitching smile that didn't fail to elicit an appreciative, last minute wink from her before strolling out the front entrance.

He was already filled, he reminded himself. Splurging on a satisfied stomach might force him into a bad habit and that bad habit could potentially ruin any other targets Aro wished him to find in the future.

Plus, he came to the conclusion, somewhat reluctantly, that while he disliked Sulpicia, it didn't change that she was a part of his family. More importantly, Aro's wife.

He would find the woman, no matter how many days, possibly weeks, it took. Not because he cared for her, but because it was his duty and Aro would know if he did not do everything in his power to find her.

That and the task provided him with satisfaction. It allowed his instincts to flow through. It let his ability to manifest and grow.

He'd keep all of that in mind while searching for Sulpicia.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

Jane was deeply immersed within Plato's _The Republic_ when the gossip first hit her ears from three corridors away. Normally, she'd make an effort to ignore Heidi's mindless babbling as it mostly pushed her into a bad mood. Talking about others problems gratified no one but the all too selfish.

This time, though, a single name caught Jane's interest.

_"Mind you, this is only what Renata overheard, but it appears that Sulpicia's absence is not intentional. Aro called Demetri from wherever he was, demanding him to find her."_

_"Is it true Gerald and Anton lost her trail?"_

_"Yes, but they are slobs when compared to Demetri. He will find Sulpicia, of that, I'm sure. But in what compromising position he does, I cannot say."_

_"You don't mean-."_

_"Come now, you know Sulpicia has long grown bored of Aro's tight hold on her. And for a period during the Renaissance, she practically fawned over Caius. All without Athendora's knowledge, of course. For these past months, she has been incredibly secretive. And hostile. You have heard what she's done to Abdul's arm?"_

_"A true misfortune. Even he does not deserve such treatment."_

_"I do not know what to make of her absence. True it has only been a day, but you as well as I know she would have returned on time, human in hand, ready to be showered in Aro's affections. And yet, she is not here. She is well aware the lengths Aro will go through to find her. And though he may not show it, he must be nervous just the slightest bit. A wife of the Volturi not returning home, especially when she should have not left in the first place? It is a travesty."_

_"Why did Aro allow her to go if he knew the risks?"_

_"That is just as much of a mystery to you as it is to me. Felix claims Aro let her so she could attain a human, but the ease he did this with, remains remarkable. I almost dare wonder..."_

The conversation abruptly ended when the shuffle of footsteps entered a nearby hallway, and for perhaps the first time in her life, Jane was truly disappointed not to hear the remaining conversation between the two women.

For the information was interesting in its own right, and would surely give herself and Alec something to discuss. They too had their own beliefs regarding the relationship existing between her master and Sulpicia. And while they kept their thoughts far more private, it did not change the fact that they still had them.

Sighing regretfully, Jane book marked the page she'd been on, even though she'd gone through the book at least thirty-seven times.

Right now, she wanted to find Alec and duscuss what apparently the others now deemed a disappearance.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

As midnight revealed itself to the lighted city, Demetri sniffed the chill air once more, brows scrunched together.

Sulpicia's scent indicated she'd been within the beat up alley multiple times. Granted, this could have just been her hunting method, but as far as he could tell, the alley carried few human scents. In fact, he could detect more animal than any other.

And yet, for some reason, Sulpicia found the need to pass through the narrowed area, at least five times.

With a grumble, Demetri cursed softly into the cold night, head falling back on concrete behind him.

He'd been trailing Sulpicia's movements for eighteen hours straight, but all he got was a complicated pattern of zig zagging and spontaneous meandering.

At first, he wondered if it was due to how long it'd been since she last hunted. Perhaps she didn't know how to go about, tracking a human she found desirable.

However, the more he encountered these dead ends or areas where her scent lessened dramatically, the more he wondered if this pattern was deliberately set up to mislead him. Maybe she knew Aro would ask him to find her and purposefully wound a mindless pattern to throw him off.

Which angered him in a way, but there wasn't exactly much he could do. If anything, it made him even more determined to find her.

The perfume in his possession did little to help his efforts. It led him a few miles into the coast of South Carolina. After entering the state and losing the perfume altogether - a musky passionfruit that left his nostrils screaming for fresh oxygen - he had to regress back to searching by Sulpicia's natural scent.

And this proved to be a strenuous, hour by hour headache.

She traveled north initially which wasn't anything overly difficult to trace. A few times, she paused to eat.

After finding some of the bodies she disposed of, he realized she knew enough to be careful. Most of the bodies were missing fingers, and all of them were missing their heads which meant no proper identification could be made and no neck could be studied, showing the strange bite marks.

Demetri would have been impressed by the effort she took to cover her own trail, if he wasn't the one following it.

Her human meals unexpectedly stopped appearing after he'd crossed into Virginia. And the thought of Sulpicia not eating, amused him briefly. She was the type of vampire who'd indulge in seven more humans on a full stomach just so she could watch the life leave their eyes.

But his amusement quickly evaporated when with each trail he followed, and there were many he did, he found not a single human body disposed. After reaching the conclusion that she didn't eat for at least a few days, he became extra alert on picking up scents he wouldn't have otherwise bothered with.

By nightfall, he'd entered Pennsylvania. But for some unknown reason, Sulpicia veered off east, taking a detour towards the ocean.

This was the point where his frustration entered the search party. It was one thing to follow a complicated scent, but another to realize that the scent was complicated because its' owner knew who'd be following it. And they wanted to desperately screw with your head one last time.

The sandy shores of New Jersey only served to soak his socks and fill his expensive, leather shoes with pesky sand.

Another dead end.

Six hours later and he finally stood in his current position - an abandoned alley in New York City. Manhattan area, if he recalled correctly.

Despite his wearisome navigation, he felt he was close to finding her.

Which didn't exactly reassure him that he'd be able to bring her back once she was found. If Sulpicia deliberately misled him, he doubted she would want to return to Volterra voluntarily.

Still, in just the past hour, her scent had grown heavier. Drowsier, he could tell. As if she had finally found purpose in her tracking and didn't care so much about throwing him off.

By far, she wasn't the most difficult target he'd ever hunted down. Some vampires Aro wanted found, took months to track.

However, because he didn't exactly like Sulpicia, the task was far more trying. Especially on his ability which was having a surprisingly difficult time picking out which direction she chose after exiting the alley. Cities were common places he dreaded venturing through as the millions of other human scents sometimes drove out the one he was after.

But he supposed that was why his targets found refuge in them. To avoid detection.

With an unecessary sigh, Demetri pushed himself off the alley wall, brushing off excess sediment and debris from his shoulders.

It was time to get back to business. And business assured him that Sulpicia would be found by the time dawn broke.

He really was quite close.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

An hour later found Demetri standing outside of apartment **13A**, his shoulders rigid and stiff, spine strained in an uncomfortable, straight line, and fangs poking out from beneath his upper lip.

His senses had been bombarded by one constant smell for the past few minutes, a smell he couldn't believe was filtering into his nostrils no matter how many times he inhaled it. A smell that slammed into him unexpectedly after passing by the desolate complex he currently stood inside of.

He felt the unsuppressable urge to cough, but fought it back. Despite his puzzlement at the smell, he couldn't afford to be sloppy at the door where Sulpicia's scent abruptly ended.

But on the other hand, he couldn't find the nerve to make the first step forward because a part of him was truly uneased at what he would find inside.

Because he would not deny this - the scent riding his senses was Sulpicia's.

However, it was no longer a scent in which life flowed.

All he smelled was blood. Coppery, crimson, and from what he could detect, days old.

At first, he thought the blood might belong to the human occupying the apartment. He could tell it was a woman's through her fruity shampoos, and beneath that, within her own skin, he detected a strong wave of roses and milk.

Unfortunately, the blood assaulting his senses carried an unmistakable trace of the perfume Sulpicia had worn, followed by the properties of her own natural scent and an undertone of the ancient scent so common of Volterra itself.

Inside the apartment, every so often, he heard movement despite the lateness of the hour. A casual shuffling of feet somewhere far away from the front door, perhaps in a closed bedroom. They passed over the floorboards softly, but purposefully, further confirming his belief that it was a woman.

He of course knew what he had to do. That door would have to be opened and he'd have to search the apartment until he found the source of Sulpicia's blood.

But a part of him still had a difficult time processing it all out in his head. How could Sulpicia's blood be spilled? Why?

Demetri forced open the door seconds later, swiftly entering the apartment and dedicating no more time to the indecision resting inside him. He would get his answer one way or another.

His footsteps flew over the floor with an uncommon softness, perhaps only detectable to the ears of mice. The blood, if possible, grew stronger, his nose nearly recoiling as he stalked from the kitchen, through a living room, passing by a supply closet before finally, reaching a sealed door.

He wasted no time in throwing it open and stepping inside as one finger flipped on the light switch, anticipating what strange mystery he would find.

But nothing in his imagination could have prepared him for what he saw.

Lying in a large, pearly white bath tub were the sliced, chopped, and partially decomposed remains of Sulpicia's pale, lower body, resting in an almost grotesque peace. If he needed proof as to the body being hers, he only had to glance at the V pendant still resting above her chest, unharmed in whatever hacking had taken place. Beneath the gallons of blood, for the entire tub was soaked and caked in it, the emerald green of her gown still glimmered arrogantly.

It was no mistaking now, as he only stared on, whose body he'd stumbled upon or the sobering fact that she was indeed dead, her decapitated head bearing this reminder.

But his shock, raw and naked and for a few seconds, crippling, couldn't be contained at the display before him. He'd seen countless dead bodies in his lifetime. So many in fact that it often left him unable to even flinch.

This, however...this was entirely different. This was Sulpicia Volturi, a vampire well passed the age of two thousand, lying in a pool of her own blood, body cut and mutilated, slumbering eternally like some common human victim.

It took him a few seconds to properly digest what he was seeing, almost feeling like a newborn at the sight.

But as he absorbed this startling scene, he found an astounding thing gradually happening to him. While the scene was shocking in its own right, it also left him with an odd sense of relief. And the more he channeled this relief, the quicker the shock wore off and the more immune to the scene he became.

Sulpicia was dead. Someone had gotten the courage - the strength - the power to finally silence her for good.

And despite who it was he worked for, whose wife currently lay slain, whom he'd be reporting this slaughter back to, Demetri couldn't find it in himself to truly feel sorrow for Sulpicia.

Karma was something Marcus often regarded as a part of life, at least in the few times he did speak, and for once in his own existence, Demetri finally understood what the quiet vampire spoke of.

It was a shocking revelation, and one he would do his best to hide from Aro. And yet, it settled itself inside of him with an extraordinary ease and never once did it feel out of place to carry.

"Addio, abbastanza veleno," he murmured with a dark relief, allowing his body to rest against the bathroom entrance, no longer minding the stench of blood.

"Are you the police?"

His scanning immediately ceased, ears not having to strain too far for the carrier of the question. He could tell without looking that she stood behind him, eyes most likely boring into his back in terror.

With a composed smile, he turned, realizing action would have to be brought against the person who took the life of Aro's wife. Although he was secretly at ease to have her gone, it didn't change the facts.

If he didn't kill the person responsible, Aro would do far worse to the poor soul.

Upon finally meeting the gaze of the woman he'd smelled earlier, though, all of his thoughts seemed to pause instinctively.

The human before him, stuck somewhere between an older teenager and childish adult, sported blotchy, blue bruises underneath her jaw, snaking their way down the side of her neck where they yellowed out. Despite his appreciation of common beauty, Demetri could look nor think to study anything else but the wounds upon the woman.

Underneath the night clothes she wore, he could almost smell the tangy, not yet healed over scars, indented most likely with an incredibly sharp utensil, their depths unknown. One eye appeared to be healing from a severe injury, slightly shorter in height than the other one. A split sat cracked in the middle of her bottom lip, keeping the crusted blood in place.

And all over her, even though he knew she'd taken at least six or seven showers, he could still smell Sulpicia's blood.

"Are you the police?" she tried again, her voice surprisingly vacant of any emotion. He honestly half expected her to quake or panic, but she did neither of these things. "I'll go to prison for what I did, but that's okay."

Without a warning, she emitted a harsh laugh, the action causing her obvious pain, but her facial expressions refusing to submit to it.

"I know it looks horrible and that I appear to be the bad guy here. Like some sort of Gacy or Manson, but you have to understand...it wasn't going to be me."

Demetri found himself nodding without realizing it, a brand new curiosity growing like an incurable disease.

"That repulsive, psychotic bitch," she spat, hands shaking, "would not be the one to end my life."

His silence must have thoroughly confused her because she risked a step forward, frown in place.

"You are the police, aren't you? I'm assuming someone heard her screams...even though Christmas is coming up and nearly every apartment is deserted on my floor...someone had to have heard the screams. Maybe they heard mine...I can't tell anymore. Everytime I'm supposed to hear silence, I only hear screaming."

She unexpectedly looked away, eyes finding nothing of interest in the darkness, but most likely necessary so she could keep up her composure.

Demetri found himself wanting those eyes back on him so he could search for what happened inside them. However, it only took a quick inspection of her previous words to dissect it.

Sulpicia tried to kill this human and she fought back. And with truly only the rarest of miracles existing in this world, this human...won.

"In a sense, yes, I am the police," Demetri found himself relaying neutrally. "And yes, you will be tried for this crime."

Her nod wasn't one of surprise.

"-but, it may help your case if you tell me what happened."

"No, it won't."

Surprised, Demetri approached her.

"Why do you say that?"

"I slaughtered a woman into bits and pieces," she answered as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. "One look at the crime scene and the police won't even hold a trial before locking me up. I'm fine with that. Arrest me."

She extended both hands expectantly, but no humor rested in her command, indicating an unnerving submission to her fate.

Demetri only stared at her shaking hands, unsure how to proceed. By Volturi law, she should have been dead the moment she confessed to her crime.

And yet, he hesitated.

Why?

"Did you know the woman I killed?"

This time, she read something from his face, or perhaps from his silence. Whatever it was, emotion seemed to leap back inside her tone with the question.

"I did, very much so," he revealed. "She is the wife of my master. And if you will allow me to be honest, I am bound by duty to kill you myself for what you've done."

Both eyebrows rose at this, but she never once lowered her gaze.

"Master?" was all she inquired in confusion.

"Yes."

"That's...different. I'm detecting that you're not the common policeman."

"Are you not worried that I am supposed to kill you?"

"If you wanted to, you would have already. Plus, I may not look like much, but there's still fight left in me. If you're lucky, you might have both ears by the end of this."

Despite himself, the edges of his lips quirked up, recognizing the sardonic amusement flashing itself ever so briefly across her face.

"What is your name?"

"So...you're not going to kill me?" she pressed.

"Perhaps I want to know the name of Sulpicia's murderer."

Instantly, she stiffened, all signs of mirth gone.

"Sulpicia," she tested, eyes flying behind him. She didn't speak for a few seconds, pondering over a troubling thought. "_I_ am the murderer. _I_ am the bad guy. Even after everything she did to me...after everything she promised to do to me in the days to come, _I_ will be killed for my crime. No wonder I don't believe in God anymore. He has no idea what justice is."

And with those bitter words, she threw him a final guarded glance before retreating to the kitchen.

After that, he heard the sound of pots and pans banging against a counter, followed by the tiny spark of the oven igniting.

"My name is Rachel," she voiced, tone set back into one of indifference.

Demetri nodded to himself, one hand grabbing the cell phone in his pocket.

His next task couldn't even be properly defined, but he'd settle for fucking dreadful. In fact, he almost wished to break the contraption into two and forget about Aro's assignment altogether.

But he knew Aro needed to hear what became of Sulpicia, if not as a leader, then as a husband. And for the moment, this Rachel would have to stay alive. With a murder this significant, he honestly didn't know whether to kill the human himself or let Aro pick out the proper punishment, one most likely far worse than death, but befitting of someone who murdered such an important vampire.

As he heard the human shuffle about, he still couldn't quite submerge the shock he internally felt. A measly human killed one of the oldest vampires in existence. A human who was probably meant to be Aro's gift.

He almost wanted to laugh if he wasn't so uncontrollably nervous about his next task.

"Perhaps she will offer to kill me as well," he muttered darkly, fingers reluctantly pressing down on the familiar numbers that would most certainly cause chaos to explode within Volterra's normally peaceful walls.

* * *

**To anyone in doubt, I'll confirm it. Sulpicia is dead. I know it's abrupt, but it certainly shines a spotlight of intrigue onto Rachel and what exactly occurred between Sulpicia and herself in the days they were together. Next chapter: Demetri informs Aro of his discovery. Poor guy. Also, his last words to Sulpicia's dead body were in Italian. He said "Goodbye, pretty poison", meaning it sarcastically because as you know, he doesn't quite like her very much. And I own no characters but Abdul and Rachel. Let me know your thoughts in a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, as always, to those who reviewed. The last chapter was kind of crazy, but the fact that people are still with me, makes writing the next one all the more fun. Another long chapter ahead, but I'll try to shorten future chapters once events kind of get under control. One reviewer mentioned that I must really hate Sulpicia, especially when rereading the chapter and realizing how violent of a death I gave her. Honestly, I don't mind her because she was fun to write, but her death is essential to create the plot and move it forward. I do have a warning below, but I have a feeling that won't deter most of you. Enjoy! **

* * *

**Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence**

**Chapter 2**

When the other end of the line was finally picked up, Demetri still didn't have the slightest idea of how to begin relaying the news of Sulpicia's demise.

But to his surprise, Aro's voice didn't greet his ear. And for an extra few seconds, this allowed his brain to continue on searching for a calm explanation.

"Demetri? Dear God, is that you?"

In the dimness of the room, Demetri allowed himself to show a half-hearted smile.

"Heidi. It's been too long."

"You bet your ass it has! Where the hell did you go? Aro didn't even budge on a location."

"I was in Finland. And I know you want an elaborate explanation, but unfortunately, it cannot be given at the moment. I need to speak with Aro right now."

An unsatisfied grumble flew through the connection.

"What was in Finland? You had me worried that you weren't even going to come back. I-."

"Heidi," Demetri harshly interrupted, feeling the slightest guilt at cutting off the woman, "I will only repeat myself once more. Give the phone to Aro. I _need_ to speak with him."

"Yes, of course. But understand that I'll be interrogating you the moment you step into Volt-."

"HEIDI," he bit out, a dangerous bark firing into his tone "give the phone to Aro, **now**."

"Aro is greeting the Albanian coven as we speak," she replied neutrally, all signs of playfulness gone. "You know he's been looking forward to this meeting for a long time. I trust this is urgent enough to take him away from their attentions?"

"I would never speak to you in such a way if it wasn't."

He was glad she knew him well enough to detect the hint of repentance in his tone.

"Alright, Demetri...is this about Sulpicia?"

This time, he forced himself to stay silent.

"I'm getting him right now."

Demetri's eyes shifted up, curious, despite himself, of what the human was up to in the kitchen. But quite quickly, that curiosity was severed.

"Demetri," Aro greeted cautiously, "Heidi assures me that you have information important enough to attract my attentions away from my guests?"

"Yes," was his only response.

His master's voice immediately changed.

"Splendid! To be honest, I needed a slight distraction from our friends to the east. The centuries have only made them more hostile...not a particularly attractive quality, but one I must deal with regardless. Do begin whenever you're ready."

Fixing his gaze on the cheap, navy carpet beneath his feet, Demetri fell into an unnatural pace.

"Aro," he began, fingers tightening on the cell phone, "developments have been made regarding Sulpicia's location."

"Ah, wonderful! What troubles has my dearest wife found herself in this time?"

"She is in...New York City."

"Really? Yet again, I am surprised she did not use any of her credit cards. She does love shopping in cities. Tell me, does the air still retain a sulfuric bitterness?"

Demetri almost felt like laughing at the care free tone Aro sported. But of course, he refrained, realizing he'd sound deranged even to his own ears.

"Not so much. Human odors and the repulsive fume from their cars, overwhelm the atmosphere for the most part. But if I may be so frank, I must return to the topic of Sulpicia."

"Of course, of course. While I am in need of an explanation for her tardiness, I must begin by asking how she is. Is she aware you have discovered her location?"

"She is n-," Demetri paused, his steps increasing in speed. "I am unsure of the specifics that occurred, but it appears Sulpicia has..."

For perhaps the first time in his undead life, Demetri couldn't find the words to finish a sentence. A sorry realization that even Heidi herself would scoff at as she thought him to be quite a skilled wordsmith.

Unfortunately, each time he tried grasping on to the proper words that would form a perfect explanation, images of Sulpicia's hacked form vividly reappeared inside his mind.

He had many fears about relaying Sulpicia's death to Aro. He feared he would not sound somber enough. He feared Aro would not believe him. He feared Aro would punish him for allowing the death to happen. He of course feared what Aro's reaction would be as the man's moods were notoriously well hidden. And even to a certain extent, he feared for the human whose actions were taken in order to survive.

And all of those fears hadn't been felt in a desperately long while.

But an unnecessary inhale forced him to recognize the facts. There would be no way around divulging what took place and whose body lay in pieces inside a bath tub. Neglecting his duties to inform Aro only prevented the truth.

"Do not tell me she had gotten sloppy. Is a human aware of our existence?" Aro inquired, a faint annoyance entering his voice. "I knew allowing Sulpicia to procure a meal would lead to her becoming careless. I suppose I did so out of the eagerness she managed to wrap even myself within. Instruct her to return to Volterra in the next hour and to pick up the human along the way."

His lengthy muteness was enough for Aro to detect something to be very wrong.

"My friend...you have remained uncommonly tight-lipped. Is there a reason for this?"

"Yes," Demetri agreed. "Sulpicia is dead, Aro."

As soon as the words were out, he felt as if a huge weight had been cleared from his shoulders. Of course the real mess was about to begin, but he did feel somewhat proud that the words were finally out.

"Dead?" Aro repeated emptily.

"I followed her trail from South Carolina all the way into New York and from there to an apartment within the city. By the time I stepped inside, there was no mistaking that the blood I smelled belonged to Sulpicia. I discovered a sealed door leading to a bathroom and inside where I found Sulpicia...at least what remained of her."

"Was she-?"

"Decapitated, yes," Demetri confirmed. "But I do not know if the human did this because she knew of what Sulpicia was, or because she wanted her dead in every way possible."

"A _human_ is responsible for this?"

"Yes. A female named Rachel, no older than twenty-six from what I've observed."

"Is she currently on the run?" he demanded, no longer bothering to disguise the danger lurking in his voice.

"Actually, not at all," Demetri admitted, careful not to sound too carefree himself. "She is still inside the apartment, in the kitchen at this very moment, cooking...potatoes, I believe."

"Cooking potatoes?"

That danger made way for confusion, an emotion Demetri actually would have liked to witness on the vampire.

"Yes. She believes me to be an officer of the law. She also is offering herself freely to me, under the impression I will throw her into prison. Of course these decisions will be left up to you. But from what I can gather of the situation, Rachel was to be your gift. I cannot yet detect what in her blood made Sulpicia choose her, but nevertheless, she was chosen. I'm also unsure how many days they were within each other's company, but Sulpicia did torture the human substantially. Thought I doubt this surprises either of us. If I am to take an honest guess, I think in the end, Sulpicia became sloppy, but not in the way we would think. She underestimated the human. She provoked the human. She showed the human little mercy, describing in full detail what would be done to her in the days to come, and while for some humans, this paralyzes them into fear, I think for this one, it served as extra motivation to survive at any cost. Somewhere along the way, Sulpicia's arrogance became her downfall. Whatever utensil the human was able to get her hands on, ultimately became the weapon she used against your wife. I can only assume Sulpicia was taken off guard and the human's thirst for survival successfully silenced Sulpicia, though not very easily. The human still bears many marks, some fresher than others, of an obvious battle."

Static crackled threateningly into Demetri's ear, but he shook it off, listening intently for Aro's next words.

"These events are unforeseen," Aro acknowledged emotionlessly. "Here are your instructions, and Demetri...I do expect these followed if you wish for your life to continue."

"Of course."

"Make sure the human remains in your sight at all times until next evening. And under any circumstances, you are not to kill her."

"What will I do when next evening comes?"

"You will step aside and allow me to serve out a proper punishment."

"You are coming here?"

"Yes, as will a considerable portion of our family, including my brothers."

"Jane as well?"

"Without a doubt," Aro assured darkly.

Demetri couldn't hold back the twinge of pity he felt for the human in the kitchen. She truly had so little idea of what torture would be brandished upon her.

"Then I will await your arrival and make sure the human does not flee."

"I expect nothing less."

Hesitating, Demetri forcibly loosened his painful hold on the cell phone. "I am sorry for your loss, master. Sulpicia suited you in a way no other woman ever will. I should hope only with time that the pain lessens."

"Kind of you to say, Demetri, but unnecessary. Although you hide your feelings remarkably well, they cannot deceive me."

His eyes widened ever so subtly, but he didn't respond.

"I understand your concern for me to be earnest, but not for Sulpicia. I should hope, however, that your dislike of my wife will not prevent you from doing what is expected of you?"

"Never," Demetri promised dutifully. "I will serve you until the day I die."

"That is all I needed to hear."

And with that, the line went dead.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

Heidi's knees trembled and her entire body threatened to collapse upon itself as Aro cut Demetri's voice away with the firm snap of his cell phone.

Part of her could not believe what she had just heard, while another wished she never had tried to listen in on the conversation in the first place.

It just bothered her so much that Demetri fled their home without so much as a word to her. She had only hoped to figure out what had forced him to be so secretive and live away from everyone else.

Away from her.

But this...this information was unexpected. Unbelievable. Unreal.

A gasp threatened to stumble out of her throat, but Heidi pressed her hand over her mouth, sealing it as she sank to the floor.

"You know it is not polite to eavesdrop, Heidi."

The gasp morphed into an unattractive exhale as her wide eyes flung up to the figure standing stiffly at the entrance to the throne room.

"Aro, I-."

Aro merely held up a hand, his face a barren wasteland. Nothing, and she had known Aro for a while, could be found on his beautiful, pale face.

"You will tell no one, is that understood?" he commanded, leaving no room for argument. "This is my business to tell."

Heidi only nodded weakly, flying up to her feet.

"I am sorry, Ar-."

"Leave, _now_."

It didn't take a genius to detect the held back fury in his voice.

So, she did so without thought, speeding herself somewhere far away and remote where she could properly absorb what had just been said.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

After Aro had hung up, Demetri ventured into the kitchen, watching as the human worked at mashing a spoon against soft potatoes.

"Are there not beaters you can use to make your task simpler?"

He watched her repress the urge to jump at his deep voice, especially since he currently spoke to her vulnerable back. But after a moment, the tension in her shoulders seeped out.

"I prefer doing it by hand. Tastes more authentic, I think," she revealed quietly.

Demetri nodded, not quite understanding. Then again, he had his last human meal over a millennia ago.

"I want you to explain what happened between Sulpicia and yourself. In full detail, if you are able."

The human sighed, but did not cease her insistent movements.

"Promise you won't hurt me if I tell you?"

"What makes you think I would?"

"You knew the woman. And as you mentioned, by your law, you're supposed to kill me."

"Plans have changed," he mentioned, arms clasped behind his back. "Right now, I only wish to hear what happened, even if you do not think it will help any."

She nodded to herself, but didn't speak right away.

Instead, she kept at her mashing until he guessed her to be satisfied.

Her next movements included taking out a translucent, glass bowl, scooping the potatoes inside, sticking a spoon into the steaming, creamy white, then carrying it to a chipped, mahogany table whose one leg, stubby and shorter than the rest, was supported by old newspapers.

"Would you like some?" she asked, finally looking up at him.

"Always one for manners?"

She smiled to herself, nothing warm in the gesture, but somewhat genuine.

"Only if I feel they're deserving of them."

Demetri seated himself in an unstable looking chair across from her. "I'm afraid I will pass. Is it common for you to make food at such a late hour?"

"No, not really. I used to do it when I was really depressed because it beat sleeping. Then, I got better for a short while. But now...I'm afraid of what I see whenever I close my eyes," she described passionlessly. "So, I've been cooking for the past three nights, trying to get rid of the images in my head. Which is useless. They'll be in there until the day I die."

"You killed her three days ago?" Demetri determined.

"Yeah."

She then swallowed a spoonful of her food, staring at a dried nicotine stain on the table.

"What weapon did you use?"

"My apartment is the closest to the fire escape doors. By those doors is an axe encased in glass. I tore open the flesh on my knuckles just to break through it."

He glanced swiftly down at her hands, not even realizing they too were bearing cuts. In fact, now that she was in proper lighting, he could note a few more injuries he wasn't able to pick out right away in the dark.

"She just let you go get the axe?"

Now, he was curious about whether the human knew Sulpicia's true nature.

"She said she had to go eat," Rachel explained, eyebrows scrunching up. "I only remembered thinking how fucking ridiculous that was. Leaving to get a bite to eat in the middle of torturing someone. But I'm not one for missed opportunities. I knew if I didn't act then, she would kill me. So, I dragged myself out the door, grabbed the axe, then hid myself."

"In the bathroom?"

"There are no windows in there and for some reason, it's the only apartment in the whole building where the door swings out rather than in. Whatever happened, had to happen in the bathroom."

Demetri found himself leaning forward, an elbow now resting upon the table, thoroughly intrigued by the story.

"She returned five minutes later and it's like she knew where I was at without even searching. But by that time, I was ready. Just as she nearly ripped the door off its hinges, I swung the axe with all of my might, aiming for her neck. She was ungodly strong and I knew I had to hit her in a place where it wouldn't be easy for her to recover. The only reason I got her was because she never expected it."

"Did you cut her head off?"

The human's gaze traveled down to her food, an intense look suddenly forming on her face.

"You're going to think I'm crazy when I say this."

"I hold no judgment towards you. Think of me as a priest, in a sense."

"Even priests judge," she accused. "Though, they use God to make it seem like they aren't."

The corner of his lips felt that same quirk that she'd evoked in him earlier.

"Has anyone ever mentioned you have a remarkably jaded view towards religion?"

"Has anyone ever mentioned that you're not a very convincing priest?"

This time, Demetri didn't hold back his smile.

"Point taken. Though, I do wish for you to continue on. In a way, it may help to recount what occurred. It might even help you to sleep."

She mulled over the decision, taking small bites of her potatoes in the meantime.

Finally, she met his eyes, a frightening steeliness barracading any emotion threatening to fly out.

"When I swung the axe...it did slam right into her throat. I couldn't have aimed it any more perfectly. And while the axe was able to easily break through the tendons there and her windpipe, getting at least halfway through...she could still...talk."

Demetri nodded calmly, unsurprised at the admission. His kind were known to still retain speech after a head was severed from the body.

Though, he could obviously see why the human felt such fear at the display. With severed vocal chords, and an axe buried so deeply into the throat, the expected result would be for the being to bleed out, not continue chatting as if nothing happened.

"I am guessing she did not congratulate you on your swing," he remarked.

She didn't smile, eyes instead, dropping down to that same nicotine stain.

"No. And I don't think I can even recall what all she said. Most of me was just hoping my hystericalness had forced a hallucination to occur. Which makes sense. But...when she still spoke even after I had that axe lodged in her throat...that's when I knew I couldn't be merciful. I knew she was strong. She was able to pick me up like I was a feather and throw me with a repulsive ease, across a room. She could move fast as well. And...she could hit like a ten ton truck. So, whether she actually talked or not, it didn't matter. I pulled that axe out of her throat, then swung forward again. It went in deeper, of course, but I focused on her legs next, then her arms. I needed to make sure she couldn't go anywhere. Something told me that even allowing her a functionable hand could lead to my death. So...I just kept chopping, and chopping, and slicing, and hacking. After a while, her head came clean off, but I still kept going, even through all the sea of red. I don't think even in a slaughterhouse, I could witness so much blood."

He watched her swallow another spoon of potatoes, but rather than that stony expression he was coming to realize occupied her features quite often, a haunted pain reflected itself. As if on the table between them, she could still clearly see Sulpicia's body, hacked and torn at.

His sympathy grew for the human without him even realizing it. Sulpicia could be a twisted bitch when the time came. Having the strength to split the taunting woman into pieces required great endurance.

"You deposited the body parts into the bath tub?"

Snapping out of her faraway stare, she inclined her head down, fingers playing around with her silver spoon.

"After I was sure they were severed enough, I did."

"And the head?"

She struggled to speak for a moment, mouth opening, then closing, that hard stare briefly crumpling into nothing but a vulnerable agony, reaching down further than she probably even realized.

"Her head...or her mouth...it still moved."

"Perhaps a hallucination?"

"Perhaps," she muttered with a frown. "You're going to think I'm terrible for what I did next."

Surprised, Demetri focused his eyes directly on her, silently hoping she'd find the urge to meet them.

"Sometimes, we must do terrible things to survive. No matter how we justify it, we cannot change what has always been a part of human nature."

She still seemed unsure, but she did look up, staring unblinkingly into his eyes.

"She...begged me not to kill her."

"Begged?"

"Her...voice did, I guess. It just kept on repeating over and over again that it was sorry and that if I allowed it no harm, it would leave me alone forever. What's really sad is that I actually considered it. Whether she was actually still alive or not, I didn't know, but I did think it over. Could I really finish her off without remorse, without stopping to think of letting her live?"

Now, Demetri straightened up, eyes increasing in intensity.

"It is very important, Rachel, to tell me what you did next."

Her confusion was unmistakable, but she answered regardless.

"I bashed her fucking head in until only brain matter and bits of skull littered the floor."

Despite the harsh deadness of her tone, Demetri released an internal sigh. He didn't know if more if it had to do with the fact that he almost misinformed Aro of Sulpicia's fate or that he was happy the human finished what she started.

"What did you do with those remains?"

"Behind this complex, there's an alley. A livable one where a lot of homeless people hang out. During the winter, they often light up the inside of dumpsters so they can have heat for the night. After I did what I did to her head, I cleaned up what was left, scooped it up into a black garbage bag and threw it into one of the flaming dumpsters. I probably should have done the rest with the other body parts, but by the time I came back, my body only had enough energy to move between two actions. Retching and crying. So, that's what I did."

Demetri silently marveled at how luck truly had been on the human's side. Starting from her apartment being closest to the axe all the way to having a perfect place to dump Sulpicia's head, even if she did not realize it.

"I don't want to handle the rest of her body parts," she admitted. "That's why I was kind of excited to see you here. I was hoping you'd arrest me and it would all be over with. You guys could take care of what remained and I could just live the rest of my life in peace."

"I will take care of the remains," he assured.

"Thank you," she breathed out. "Though, I still know you're not happy about me killing her. And that I'm still the bad guy in your eyes."

"Would it hurt to mention how you and Sulpicia first became associated?"

For a moment, she appeared ready to speak, but at some last minute thought, she froze up.

"Let's talk about something else," she decided, her bowl now empty.

Demetri didn't push for the information, understanding just by a scan alone that relaying what she had, soaked up a lot of her energy. And that perhaps the beginning of the story was far more painful than the end.

Though he did find it curious that throughout the entire tale, he did not once regard her as the enemy. Rather, she reminded him of a modern underdog. The one in the films that the villain always underestimates and by doing so, allows the protagonist to triumph.

The human...Rachel, was that underdog. She survived when really, the odds were not in her favor.

Quite interesting.

"May I look around your living room?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she ushered, standing with her bowl.

As she rinsed off her utensils, Demetri flicked on a light switch and casually moved his way around the living room, now a new question forming.

Why did Sulpicia choose this human?

She was a resourceful fighter until the end, that much was true and maybe Sulpicia thought Aro would be amused by that. Or perhaps Sulpicia grew angry when she realized the woman didn't divulge her secrets so easily, wanting furiously to break the human before presenting her to Aro.

For whatever reason, Sulpicia toyed with the human for a few days before meeting her end.

But something about Rachel ensnared her interest.

His eyes trailed over five thinly bound books of poetry sitting on a loosely nailed, mustard yellow book shelf. Below the shelf, he noticed on a dresser, three framed photographs.

Without thought, his eyes fixed themselves on the one in the middle, legs moving toward it.

"Something catch your eye?" Rachel inquired, motionlessly slipping herself beside him.

"Yes. Your appearance...is different here," Demetri noted slowly, lifting the photo.

She allowed him a minute or two to study the picture, an unexpected, but nostalgic grin in place.

"I used to be really good looking a long time ago," she explained, unconsciously nearing him to gaze at the old picture. "I remember waking up two hours before school started just to style my hair or drown myself in pounds of mascara and eyeliner. Still not sure if I was ambitious or pathetic."

He didn't answer this comment directly, but he did set the photo back down, somehow feeling bad for making the observation.

In just her tone alone, he could tell the years were a mixture of pleasure and bittersweetness.

Instead, he found himself pondering over the severe transformation from photo to who stood beside him.

By no means was the human someone to marvel at upon sight (even if one was to take away all of the injuries) as most women Demetri knew, were. Granted, they were all Volterra women, but still, they had all been beautiful women before death.

Beside him, the human stood uncertainly in grey sweatpants and a bland, white tank top. Gone were the long auburn locks and the waves of purple mascara and rebellious lines of pitch black eyeliner as were in the photo.

Now, her face appeared raw and nude, lacking any form of powder or concealer. Fiery auburn hair was replaced with a tamer cherry red, most likely closer to her natural color. The lightest, sea-foam colored eyes he'd ever seen, abandoned any form of liner above or below it.

If he was to make a guess to why she'd deserted cosmetic products altogether, it'd be so others would be forced to get to know her personally rather than summing up who she was by looks alone. He almost wanted to ask if she did do this intentionally, but banished the thought away, not really caring either way.

She gave him a curious glance and he realized he'd been studying her far more intensely than she was probably accustomed to.

Rather than comment, though, she only asked, "Which image do you prefer?"

"In what regards?"

She grew pensive at this, effectively shutting down whatever intention drove her.

"Do you prefer the wet dream from a movie scene or the girl beneath all that make-up and hair spray who looks like the battered wife of a fifty year old alcoholic from some Lifetime movie?"

Demetri didn't answer right away, taking the time – time he was just as puzzled to be spending – to honestly absorb this human, minus the bruises peppering her face. In her case, she didn't rely on looks alone, at least not anymore and that took away from physical appearance, even though she was blessed with a slim, if not slightly curvy, figure and a petit form.

But the fighting spirit existing in such an unintimidating individual and her unorthodox view of the world, truly did make her all the more attractive, if not a bit unique.

Then again, was he simply over thinking her worth because her bruises made him pity her?

Honestly, he couldn't be sure, but he did think that if they ever lived in some alternative world where she were a member of the Volturi guard, she'd be very useful because no one would think to attack her first.

And yet, that arrogant assumption would slowly allow others to see how deadly she truly was.

Unfortunately, as he pondered these odd thoughts, Rachel interpreted his silence for an answer.

"I wouldn't pick any of me either."

She voiced this as if it were an already stated fact, something they'd wordlessly agreed to, something she'd long ago accepted.

And the vampire couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of annoyance.

"For a woman who murdered another to stay alive, you remain remarkably passionless towards your own life."

She scowled at this, then just as quickly, dropped it and released a tired sigh.

"You're completely right. Sometimes, I don't get me. I mean...I really don't."

With a blank look, she glanced around her apartment, seemingly searching for something. After a second, she huffed then ran a hand over her neck.

"So, I guess I need to know this. When are your...masters coming?" she asked awkwardly, obviously unsure in what way he regarded the word.

Relieved to be back on familiar topics, Demetri straightened up and broke away from her, mindlessly strolling across the carpet once again.

"I made the call roughly a half hour ago. While my master's surprise was undeniable, he is unfortunately dealing with some pressing matters that require his complete attentions. Still, those matters will be wrapped up promptly in light of this event. By this time next evening, he assured me he as well as the others, will be here. _All_ of them."

Rachel could tell the last words were supposed to mean something as shown by the imposing manner in which Demetri voiced it, eying her carefully.

But she felt little fear, and only shrugged in response.

"I suppose I'll have to do something fun tomorrow to commemorate my last day of freedom. I'm thinking...Isla del Sol?"

"What is Island of the Sun?" Demetri translated, confused. "And I am more amazed you are not going to find your local law enforcement and beg for their protection because I assure you, our justice will be more cruel."

"And waste a perfectly good day of having a little bit of fun before my sentencing? Not a chance! Isla del Sol has been my favorite place to go each time I've been down. Lately, I haven't found the heart to travel there even though I've had reasons to. I suppose now, I won't be able to hide from my cowardice. Will you be ready by ten tomorrow morning?"

He found himself glancing at a nearby digital clock, currently reading 2:20 A.M.

"What for?"

She studied him carefully, obviously expecting him to already have the answer.

When he didn't meet her conclusion, she explained, "I doubt your masters would be happy if I scurried away under your watch. Plus, it'll be a good time just to relax for a little while."

The sudden carefreeness of her answer, sent a strange jolt of guilt through his unbeating heart.

He recognized it once again, what the cause was. Really, it was almost painful how unaware she was of her future.

Then again, a voice in his head wondered, should he not indulge her before death?

"I am not a fan of the sun," he ended up voicing. "But I will allow myself to accompany you."

"Please don't act so excited," she muttered. "What's your name, anyway? I can't believe I haven't asked that yet."

Demetri released a surprised chortle, the corner of his lips briefly lifting up. "My name is Demetri, and you must forgive me. I haven't been asked to such an informal event like this for...an incredibly long while.

She sent him an understanding smile, forced, but there all the same.

And not for the first time did Demetri wordlessly wonder about Rachel's nature. Why it seemed like a thunderous world existed inside someone so ordinary and predictable.

But he repressed these musings. The human would be dead soon enough, as unfortunate as it was coming to be. No need to waste his thoughts on answers that would not be solved.

"You'll love Isla del Sol," she trailed on, navigating out of the living room and towards what he guessed to be her bedroom. "It's not nearly as sunny as you'd think it is, but it still manages to get you in a good mood. Do you want me to drive to your apartment?"

"Apartment?"

"Yes," she nodded, glancing back at him. "Otherwise known as your place of residency."

Her jab stirred up the issue of where he'd reside for the night.

Because if there was anything he knew he had to do, it was hunt. The amount of blood he'd seen today, piled atop not only being in Rachel's presence, but being in contact with humans the next day, told him now needed to be the time lest he accidentally slipped up and ruined everything.

A credit card currently stored in his back pocket would easily allow him to find a suitable place.

However, he didn't quite trust the human not to desert her apartment during the night. He knew she probably wouldn't try to attempt it, but Aro had given him strict orders to keep a constant watch on her.

Besides, even if she did manage to get away, he could easily track her down. If not and she got far enough away, when the Volturi finally came, they'd be led on a needless witch hunt that would leave them irritable and bloodthirsty, a bad mix with vindictive and pissed off.

If she ran, it was a guarantee she'd be killed on the spot. Such was a custom to those who dared harm their family, much less slaughter, even if there was proper reason behind it. And Demetri wasn't quite sure he was brave enough to admit to her, much less himself, that he'd rather she stay and not get killed immediately, even though that would probably be worse than death itself.

"This will sound strange to you, but may I take shelter here for the night? My master required I keep a watchful eye on you until he arrives. He'd hate for you to flee."

Rachel flinched ahead of him, one hand on the door knob as she took a moment to simply stop and think.

"I guess I really don't mind nor care. But I just realized how messed up this whole situation is. I'm letting the man who's leading others to potentially kill me, stay in my home until they arrive? Maybe killing Sulpicia really did drive me insane because otherwise, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Do not dismiss your kindness so easily."

She spun toward him, a dark frown marring her lips.

"I'm _not_ a kind person, Demetri. You'll soon come to learn that," she expressed. "And in those three days that that...sorry excuse for a human being tortured me, I've found myself growing even meaner than I usually am."

"Sulpicia has been known to have that effect on people. Though, I find it amazing that you do not at all feel victorious for having bested her. I cannot properly describe how rare of an occurrence that is."

"What kind of demented person would feel triumphant after hacking another person to death?" she remarked with a scrunched up nose, padding backwards into her bedroom. "I think I'm past the shock and the horror. But triumph? That's not in the foreseeable future...ever."

Demetri chose to hide his smile this time, relieved to hear something so...endearing. When constantly surrounded by vampires, it is not unheard of for them to brag of their past conquests and kills, all of them feeling a common triumph after having survived.

The human still remained so unaware of how grand and powerful of a figure she killed, but he had a feeling that even if she knew, triumph would never make its way into her cycle of emotions.

It was surprisingly refreshing to meet an individual with such a morally affluent point of view, even if she claimed otherwise.

"I must check the perimeter of your complex," Demetri spoke, watching as she slipped beneath her covers, face no longer keeping back her flinches of pain.

"You go do that. But...come back, will you?"

Startled, Demetri inquired, "Why is that?"

She found his eyes in the dimness of the room, and without warning, that vulnerability of unspoken horrors, greeted him.

"I-I haven't been able to sleep well in a long while. Nearly being murdered of course almost kept it so I couldn't even feel safe to close my eyes. But you...this is going to sound lame..."

"Notice that each time you claim something will sound wrong to my ears, it ends up sounding perfectly fine," he observed, sending her a calm smile. "Speak freely. I know you want to."

"There's something about your presence that makes me feel...okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, tilting his head. "Each time I have heard a woman use the word okay, it usually means the opposite."

"If it helps, when they ask you how they look, never say what you really think unless it's fantastic."

"Wise words," Demetri agreed, eying her patiently. "Though, I assume okay means something different for you?"

"I don't have many people in my life who can make me feel okay anymore. Okay is like...okay. I don't know how to explain it. It's not safe or content or happy, but it's not miserable or sad or guilty. Something about the way you talk, about the way you don't judge, even though you have every right to...that's just okay by me. And it gives me a reason to close my eyes and try to ignore the things I see. Does that make sense?"

Demetri forced himself to sigh, knowing she had to see human like movements coming from him.

And yet, the sigh was partly emitted from a deeper place. A place that hooked on to the sympathy he felt for the human and began developing it into something else.

This feeling unnerved him greatly because of how little he'd experienced it in his life. More to the point, it made him even more reluctant to be present when Aro finally met his wife's murderer face to face.

"It does. I will be here for the entire night."

She nodded, and the gesture appeared so child like for a moment he was reminded of a question he'd wanted to ask.

"How old are you, Rachel?"

For some reason, this caused her to choke out a laugh, a stray, wavy piece of red falling over her eye.

"With the way you're staring at me, Demetri, I'm honestly a bit afraid to tell you. If I said sixteen, would that stop you?"

Understanding hit him remarkably fast, and in response, he offered her a suggestive grin.

"I daresay it would, though my own age has not stopped women before."

Studying him, she pursed her lips.

"Twenty-four, tops," she guessed.

"Add roughly a thousand years to that."

Her laugh busted out from somewhere deep in her stomach, and Demetri found that he quite enjoyed that, especially with how morose she seemed most of the time.

"Yeah, that'd be quite the age difference," she noted, smile dying down. "I am twenty-four, though. I know I act like I'm younger sometimes, but I think adults have to retain some of their youthfulness."

"I agree with the sentiment, but I'd say you are the opposite," he studied. "Your experiences provide you with a life and point of view that those who have seen far too much, are often equipped with in older age. And you are the first person I truly have ever wished could maintain the experiences of their own age and not grow old before their time."

For a tense second, Demetri thought she interpreted this as an offence because two tears meandered themselves over her cheeks.

But her next words affirmed him that she understood.

"You are the only person I have ever met who has ever been kind enough to wish that upon me. How is it you know I desire that?"

"When one has lived a long existence, they learn the most surprising things about growing old," he mentioned, thoughts suddenly far away. "Try to sleep."

She nodded tiredly at his form, lowering herself backwards into the bed and gathering the covers almost greedily over herself.

Demetri watched the human even after he heard the evenness of sleep take her for the first time in who knew how long. In fact, he watched her until his throat began tingling heatedly.

And all the while, he mulled over the fate of the human Rachel and how now, it was almost a tragedy that by the time she would die at Aro's hands, she would have lived a life so far beyond her years that that in itself might lead to her eventual death.

* * *

**I hope you are enjoying my Demetri. He truly is a curious fellow, stuck now with this growing attachment to Rachel, even though he knows he has to hand her over to Aro so she can face her crime. One he understands she had to commit to survive, but knows no one else will see it that way because he's the one of the only vampires who openly despises Sulpicia. The last line is basically Demetri thinking how sad it's going to be that Rachel will most likely become even older in her state of mind through all of the torture he knows Aro will bestow upon her. And that by the time he finally kills her, she might have died in her own way. Also, I hope I'm doing alright on writing the Volturi. I'll throw in a character's POV every now and again from their family, just to see how news hits certain people and how certain others react. I assure also that I will go into further detail from Aro's POV of what he thinks regarding Sulpicia's death. And Rachel...she's a peculiar one, ain't she? I won't be writing from her POV until the Volturi finally come to NYC. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much to all those who took the time to drop off a review. Good or bad, I loved hearing your thoughts. I was very curious to hear people's thoughts on Rachel because I love writing the underdog character, and whether you're not a fan of her or do find her intriguing, I think everyone can agree that she's complicated. Of course Sulpicia finding and torturing her brought that level of complicated up to a whole new level, but even before, something wasn't quite right with her. Question is will we find out what's hidden beneath before Aro arrives to kill her? I do hope so. Oh, and I've actually uploaded a chapter that's not at an ungodly hour of the night. Fantastic! Happy New Years, everyone and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Remember what I said to you last night?"

"You said a lot to me last night," Demetri pointed out, watching the human scoop listlessly at her scrambled eggs.

"About you making me feel okay," Rachel elaborated, staring dutifully at her plate.

"Ah, yes. Somewhat unexpected, but I don't regret saying what I did."

She nodded without thought at this, her eyebrows scrunched up together.

A second later and she released a lengthy sigh, finally meeting his eyes.

"What I said was...weird. I mean prior to then, I hadn't slept in a good forty-eight hours and half the time, I kept expecting you to disappear. I mean, I'd only known you for a few hours, and you said some things that didn't make me feel so messed up about what I'd done. So in that way, I guess that's what I meant by okay. I didn't mean for it to sound so monumental, especially since I think I was crying when I said it."

That same guarded look, disguised within a calm, light green, met his stare and Demetri knew she felt regret for opening herself up so easily.

"People have said stranger things to me. I'll promise not to take it to heart," he agreed.

"Good."

With that, she went back to playing with her breakfast, thoughts seemingly a million miles away.

Demetri, on the other hand, couldn't stop his intent study. Even when she was in the grasps of her most depressed state, he found her facial expressions intriguing. It was as if every single thought she carried, had attached with it a laden weight and one could measure how troubling each thought was just by observing how much weight rested in between her eyebrows or the former dimples of her lips.

This weight only intensified with all of the bruises scattered across her rosy skin.

"You got rid of Sulpicia's body," Rachel suddenly announced, eyes shooting up to him.

Shifting his gaze to his hands to make it seem like he wasn't staring, Demetri nodded.

"My master would not take kindly to still seeing his wife's remains in such a state."

"I see. Thank you."

She didn't inquire as to where he placed the remains, and to be honest, Demetri really didn't want to mention any more.

Realistically, he'd burned every last bit of her, only taking the Volturi pendant off as well as her emerald gown for proof or maybe a keep sake. He hadn't been lying about his explanation. If Aro got a single glimpse of Sulpicia's hacked form, he would most likely take out not only the human, but perhaps even some of his own kind.

He still remembered Caius's rampage when some fool from a Swedish coven, brought humans for entertainment. They were hosting a party two or so centuries ago and one of the humans had escaped, nearly fatally injuring Athendora.

Demetri kept out of Caius's way for a long time in the following years.

And after witnessing that display of fury, he wasn't sure if Aro would react the same way, but he certainly didn't want to risk that chance.

While Rachel slept, he'd successfully completed a hunt, purchased colored lenses to dim down his ruby red to a cinnamon brown, cleaned Rachel's entire bathroom, and even got a bit of casual reading in.

The thinly bound books of poetry he'd noted the night before, were to his surprise, actually written by the human herself. Granted, she was no Shakespeare, but the words held a magic of their own, causing him to wonder about her state of mind when she'd written each line. Within the stanzas, demons chased her, and in some of the endings, she let them claim her. In others, she fought back with a ruthless anger.

But never did she reveal what they were or why they chased her.

It really was infuriating because Demetri thought himself quite the interpreter, especially of ancient texts. He'd often worked with Marcus to help decipher lost languages.

Then again, could he honestly refer to the troubles plaguing a twenty-four year old woman, as intricate text?

"Rachel, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be as honest as you can with me, okay?"

He could tell he'd visibly startled her with the unexpected question, but he felt relieved when he noticed enough of a trust had formed to where she provided him with her full attention.

"I'll be as honest as I can, Demetri."

"Good," he remarked, offering her a reassuring smile. "Now, I'm unsure if you recognize this, but I'm not quite sure how to interrogate you. More or less, you are a bit...conflicted. The troubles you carry, I think, have been with you even before encountering Sulpicia. But I need to know if you at any point, regret killing her. You felt guilt right before ending her life. Admittedly, this isn't very common when one is in your position, but I understand it. A part of you still hoped that maybe this was all a badly conceived nightmare and that you didn't have to murder another human being to stay alive. However, I also recognize that once she was dead, you claimed to have carried no remorse, knowing it had to happen. When meeting my master, you will have to choose which emotion to stand by. Either your regret or that fight or flight instinct leading to your survival. He will not tolerate the back and forth answer you gave me because as normally calm as he is, he will not exactly have the luxury of being in a neutral mindset. You murdered his wife. I can only imagine the grief he'll be experiencing."

She watched him the entire time, eyes unmoving, frown in place. And yet, he knew she'd soaked in every word.

"I understand how I can be seen as conflicted," she exhaled slowly, lips twitching up momentarily. "Your master, by the way, sounds awful."

Demetri kept his mouth in a straight, tight line following this statement. Awful wouldn't even begin covering it.

"Now that I've had a chance to sleep and really come to terms with what I've done, I think I've settled on this. My guilt and regret rests in the fact that I had to murder another human being to stay alive. I accept that it had to happen and this acceptance is easier because Sulpicia was truly a horrifying person, but like all humans, it's still a bit difficult to grasp that we are capable of murder when pushed to the point of extinction. I've never been pushed to that point, and hope to never be again. Part of me wonders if I could have just kept her down long enough to call the police and explain what happened-,"

The vampire internally frowned, knowing this action would have without a doubt, led to the human's death. The only way Sulpicia wouldn't be a threat anymore would be to do exactly what she had done.

"-but something inside me knew that wasn't an option. That will take me a little while to get used to, giving in to such a strong desire to end someone else's life, but I'll deal because I know the consequences of not doing it would have been far worse. And that's what I'm going to be facing your master with. Conviction. I had to do it and I knew it couldn't be me, especially after realizing how casually Sulpicia disregarded life. If the guy doesn't understand that his wife is a complete psychopath, than I doubt he ever knew her at all."

There were many words Demetri wished to say, but he held back, of course. The most prominent one, though, circulated around the unfortunate fact that if the time called for it, Aro could be just as equally psychotic.

Honestly, he didn't know what to feel about her final stance. The conviction made sense, but Demetri knew Aro wouldn't find it nearly as compelling as he did.

"Something dreadful is going to happen to me, isn't it?"

Broken out of his trance, Demetri found Rachel's eyes.

"What makes you think that?"

She offered him a lop sided smile that clearly showed his innocent facade was nothing but a bluff.

"I might be wrong, but it seems like you're trying to find ways to where the punishment against me could be lessened. I think you know what your master is going to do and it's bad enough to where it has even you feeling sorry for me."

Demetri wanted to smile, but the reality of her words were so truthful that he didn't even feel like forcing one out.

"That bad, huh?" she observed, her smile still in place. "Gosh, I'm in for it now."

"You will not be so carefree come this evening," he scolded evenly.

"Right now, there is so much on my mind that I can't even begin to think about what's going to happen to me tonight," she revealed with a shrug. "I mean, he's not going to kill me outright in cold blood, is he?"

The vampire successfully kept all emotion off his face, and a frustrated sigh left Rachel's lips as a result.

"Will it at all involve me having to fight for my life again?" she asked, smile weakening. "Because as much as I sometimes hate myself, I wouldn't ever want to have my life ended prematurely. Nevermind that it's cowardly, but it'd be incredibly ironic for something amazing to come along just as I offed myself. And I'm not letting that bitch irony, win again."

Despite his hope to convey the seriousness of her situation, Demetri couldn't help smiling lightly at this. This was sounding more like the woman who wrote the poetry in her books.

"Most women I know call each other bitches," he observed. "It takes only a truly unique individual to label irony as the bitch."

Her roll of the eyes only served to increase his grin.

"Don't you have to be an asshole somewhere else?" she mumbled in defense, refusing to meet his mirthful features.

"Tsk, tsk. Insulting your companion for the day? I may just have to take a rain check," he teased.

"No, I want you to come with me," she insisted, releasing all irritation. "From your trepidation about tonight, I have a feeling I need to enjoy Isla del Sol as much as I can today and for the most part, I'd like not to be alone this time around."

It still puzzled Demetri greatly how the human could go from being amused to somber in seconds. Then again, didn't he promise himself to indulge her? Especially with what he knew would be greeting her upon returning home?

"Yes, of course I'll come," he promised.

"Alright. Just let me get changed. With the sky looking as grey as it is, you don't know what kind of weather is coming," she remarked offhandedly. "In fact, I'm surprised it hasn't snowed yet. The west has been getting pounded with it."

He watched her dump her uneaten breakfast in a trash before washing the plate and venturing into her bedroom.

Luck was on his side to have the weather in a heavy overcast, but he had overheard from a convenience store television that the sun could just as easily return later in the day.

Hopefully, that would be far, far later, especially if he was going to a place called Isla del Sol. What were the chances that the human's favorite place to go included the word sun?

"Irony...thy are indeed a bitch," Demetri murmured thoughtfully.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

"I do so hope we meet once more in the coming years," Aro mentioned pleasantly, extending a hand. "You and your coven are quite the attraction."

Sobojan grabbed the hand with obvious distrust, but offered the Volturi vampire a grateful nod. "Of course, Aro. I am sorry our visit was cut short so soon. Hopefully all is well?"

Aro only nodded, that same content grin never leaving his face as their hands dropped.

"Nothing to fret over, Sobojan. Just as a residential procedure, though, when shall I check in on your coven again?"

Behind him, Sobojan sensed his companions tense up. And the impulse to simply roast the man alive before him, increased to an unhealthy degree.

But he forcibly restrained himself, knowing he'd have to accept the uneasy peace they had or suffer the consequences of having his entire coven destroyed.

"I do not see why you must check in on us as if we are unruly children," Mila hissed suddenly from behind. "Our youngest is over three centuries. We know how to contain our thirst."

With a grim anxiety, he watched Aro's eyes find Mila. Inside them, or so Sobojan thought, he noticed some sort of politeness, crack.

Which confused him as he'd never known such an insufferably patient vampire in his entire life.

"Sobojan, I only ask this out of mercy," Aro coolly regarded. "Do control your companion or else she does not leave this room alive."

The threat was spoken calmly, collectedly, but with as much venom as one could inject in a sentence without barely raising their voice.

_"Quiet, Mila. We are nearly out of here. Do not test Aro's patience. It does not appear as if it is with him today."_

He could almost hear the metaphorical grumble in their telepathic link. Yet another reason why their departure needed to be made now.

Yes, Aro was aware of his own ability to produce and control fire.

But he had little idea that every single one of his coven members, seven if including him, carried an ability. Not one of them would ever be safe again if this deadly information was discovered. He even dedicated three entire months of training before venturing to Volterra, just to prepare everyone for Aro's familiar intrusion of the mind. It was excruciating work, but the memories had to be concealed by force so the truth wouldn't be brought into the light.

Mila's impatience certainly wasn't making anything easier.

_"I don't care if they are our elders, it's not fair that they can check up on us whenever they feel fit. That's not a government, Sobojan. It's a dictatorship."_

Of course he agreed, but with all of the eyes trained on him, Sobojan acted as if he were regretful.

"I am quite sorry, Aro. Mila offers her sincere apology, even if pride permits it."

Again, that anger wove into the airwaves inside his mind, but he chose to ignore it.

"There is something intriguing about them all," Caius unexpectedly noted, his gaze falling on each vampire. "You are sure only their leader carries a gift?"

Not a single member of his coven appeared nervous, and for that, Sobojan was thankful. They knew just as well as he, the repercussions of having their gifts brought to light.

"I assure you no talent was overlooked," Aro remarked, a faint annoyance sliding into his voice. "And they really must be off, regardless."

"Yes," Sobojan agreed, sending the raven haired man a nod. "Again, thank you Aro. You may check in with us in another year."

"Seven months sounds perfect," Aro decided happily, flashing him a smile. "Do enjoy your journey back."

Sobojan bowed, knowing his coven would follow the same formality, no matter how reluctant.

And with a final scrutinous glance from Caius, Sobojan and his coven were ushered out of the room.

"I still believe there is something strange about them all," Caius acknowledged suspiciously. "Why is it they are not staying with us for the next three days as was initially promised? You know their leader wants nothing more than to hide his coven away."

Aro didn't speak for a moment, throwing off the false grin he'd been bearing.

Marcus watched him with an unnerving intensity, and for once, Aro just wished he'd return his gaze to a book or manuscript. He was in no mood to be studied by the quiet man.

"What troubles you, Aro?"

"Many things, Marcus. Though, I am honestly at a loss of where to start."

"You know your troubles will be met with understanding."

Reluctantly, Aro lowered his head, knowing he had to inform his brothers of what had happened.

And yet, he did not quite trust himself to stay as collected as he'd been for the past few hours.

"Demetri finally called me with news of Sulpicia," he began steadily, turning to face both men.

"Is that not good?" Caius wondered in confusion.

"No," he mentioned, back stiffening up. "Demetri informed me she is dead."

Even Marcus's normally blank features couldn't keep back surprise while Caius openly showed his with widened eyes and an open jaw.

"And," Aro continued dutifully, clasping his hands behind him, "I know him to be right. He told me the color of the gown she wore and found our pendant upon her chest."

"How did this happen?" Caius demanded, his anger storming into his eyes.

At this, Aro had to contain the need to release a mad chuckle. It'd sound unnerving even to his own ears.

"Demetri claims it is a simple human woman. Perhaps the gift Sulpicia hunted so adamantly for."

The very thought still sent Aro into a dangerously dark mood about his wife's carelessness and the lack of protection she'd had.

"A human woman?" Marcus inquired with a vague interest.

"A human woman overpowering Sulpicia?" Caius interrupted. "That is impossible!"

"Oh, it is very possible, brother," he nearly laughed with bitterness. "Should you forget so easily the human who nearly injured your wife so many centuries ago?"

A violent, unforgiving anger settled itself in Caius's hard gaze.

"I thought we would not repeat those events aloud again," he threatened.

"It is the only way for you to see that humans are not always as defenseless as we make them out to be," Aro defended, feeling little remorse about bringing Athendora into the conversation. "And the more unaware we are, the deadlier their power is. As much as I loved Sulpicia, I cannot deny that she never recognized strength held a multitude of faces. The most deceiving being patience. Sadly, I can almost envision her demise and the confidence she held prior to it."

"Regardless, you are hiding your pain remarkably well," Marcus observed. "And with your release of the Albanian coven, I am to assume you have made ulterior plans?"

"I have," Aro agreed, finally displaying a most unsettling smile that showed off a great number of teeth. "In a few hours, the three of us along with Felix, Alec, and Jane, will be on a jet to New York. Demetri is currently holding on to our dear little murderer. For the moment, he is not to kill her. I would personally like to partake in this pleasure."

"We will be killing her?" Caius expressed, lips twisting up.

"Not right away," Aro corrected. "There is a reason I am taking Jane with us, after all."

If possible, the excitement in Caius's eyes grew.

"You wish to truly hurt this human, don't you?"

"Why should I not?" Aro snapped, finding Marcus's eyes. "She has slaughtered my wife. _My_ wife! I have only been able to get myself by in these past hours by imagining what to do with this filthy abomination. And I assure you, tonight will not be a merciful evening."

Marcus stared back at him as if he hadn't heard the proclamation.

"How terrifying it must have been for the human," he pointed out, "to have met Sulpicia. Forgive me, because I do not wish for you to feel I am indifferent to her death. Your loss becomes my own, Aro. And yet, the human will see her actions as survival and nothing less."

"Aro has made his decision," Caius dictated. "A right one, at that. I will personally go find our terrible three and inform them of our departure."

With that, he swiftly marched out of the room.

"I cannot tell for what prospect he is more consumed by. The injustice of my wife's death or anticipating the murder of this human."

"It does not have to be murder," Marcus expressed.

"Doesn't it?" Aro retorted tightly. "You sit in your place and listen to the news as if a common human met their death and not one of our own. As nurturing as your wisdom is, brother, I find myself astonished at your dismissiveness."

Marcus slowly moved to his feet and Aro almost thought he'd depart as Caius had.

But instead, he offered a final few words.

"How forgetful you remain that it was at your hands my mate was killed," Marcus reminded neutrally. "And yet, I have made no action against you."

Aro kept up a cruel silence, unwilling to admit nor acknowledge his past action.

"As unnecessary as killing this human is, I somehow am content to know that your anger is not nearly as black as it should be with the death of your wife," his brother commented. "I would know this pain personally. And rather than be disappointed by your actions, I find myself more perplexed by these circumstances. Make no mistake, I am sorry for your loss, brother. Her companionship gave you great pleasure. But I know your pain will fade quicker than even you will realize. For the moment, my curiosity rests in the reason why."

And before a final word could be said, the vampire exited the room.

Aro only watched the closed doors, unable to pin point just exactly what he felt.

As angry as he knew himself to be, and Aro knew Sulpicia's death reawoke a vengeance inside him he would not submerge, he also felt confusion regarding Marcus's claim that he should be even angrier than he was.

Of course Aro always perceived Marcus as a far more sensitive being, his emotions more prone to experiencing suffering.

But that pain he had witnessed inside his brother for so many centuries after Didyme's death, was indeed real and ever reluctantly, Aro understood that what he felt at this very moment wasn't nearly as agonizing or wounding.

Yes, Sulpicia was gone.

For millennias, she'd been his companion. His wife. His partner. His beautiful seductress. The one who embraced the thought of smashing their blood stained lips together and enjoying the true, liberating nature of what they were.

Knowing that he'd never have that type of relationship again, saddened him greatly. Even if their relationship had had their differences, Aro always counted on Sulpicia to return to him.

Now, she couldn't ever again, all because of a human.

Oh, yes, that pain was there, throbbing at his undead heart. But did it consume his every sense? Deprive him of the ability to think?

No, it did not. And Aro didn't know how to feel upon deciphering this troubling realization. That his pain should have been far greater, but wasn't.

Then again, perhaps it would reveal itself upon reaching the place where his wife had lived her last seconds.

With a soft growl, Aro made his way to the doors, plans in mind already for what would come in the evening.

_"It does not have to be murder."_

Forcing his feet into an unwanted pause, Aro allowed Marcus's words to replay over in his head. And an anger steadily built up as to why he indulged in the thought of sparing the human at all. That would accomplish nothing.

"I must bestow only the most cruelest of pain," he decided coldly into the empty room. "My dearest would have expected nothing less."

The issue now was deciding how to engage in such vengeance and for how long.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

"Do you ever fear this machine will lose a few screws and you will fall to your death?"

Rachel's grip on the bar, tightened, knuckles turning white.

"T-thanks for that," she chattered.

Demetri nodded with a grin, risking a glance outside the contraption he sat in.

They currently hovered in the air, fifty feet above the ground in what was known as a ferris wheel. Demetri had only seen them in pictures before, but he couldn't deny a faint admiration upon entering their seats. It was something Heidi would find an unexpected interest in hearing. Riding inside a machine so large and menacing, yet able to feel soothed at the same time.

In fact, she'd be intrigued to hear that he himself had actually traveled to an amusement park. Admittedly, this was the last place he thought Isla del Sol could be. He'd been half expecting an island itself or perhaps a spa with those annoyingly fluorescent lights that made him squint.

But no.

The human had brought him to an amusement park settled near a harbor.

Their current view really was perfect from such a great height, successfully allowing them to observe the imposing skyscrapers of the city as well as the pools of cobalt blue lakes speckled along the way.

The crowds were nearly non-existant, the cool temperature having kept them all away, but Demetri found that he preferred this. It made it easier to concentrate not only on his thirst, but on the human beside him.

Upon entering the park, Rachel claimed it wasn't uncommon for adults to travel inside as well.

However, after witnessing a rare delight sparkling inside her teal eyes as they threw random objects at milk bottles to attain overly stuffed animals that personally unnerved him with their massive, beady eyes, or as she hungrily devoured a sugar packed dessert known as an elephant ear, Demetri understood that underneath her explanation, the reason she liked coming to the park was to feel like a child herself. And not in that annoying way where he felt as if he were babysitting.

No, it was more of an excuse to be innocent, even though she'd passed that point in her life long ago.

They'd been at Isla del Sol for a little under three hours, and by far, the ferris wheel was his favorite. It calmed him as well as easily created conversations with the woman despite their unorthodox relationship.

Rachel had actually known the human who'd operated the wheel, a balding, elderly man named Artie and the two had settled on a thirty minute interval of constant rotation, lest another person came along who wanted to board.

"Did you know Sulpicia?"

Knocked out of his musings, Demetri rotated his head toward her as their cart descended once more, the breeze ruffling back his hair comfortably, but serving to force the human further into her windbreaker.

"I did."

She kept her bottom lip trapped in between both teeth, and Demetri noted the innocence she'd retained for the past few hours, slowly seep away. Now, they would be back to discussing the mortifying part of life and he reluctantly forced himself into this mindset.

"Did you know how insane she was?"

This time, Demetri didn't know how to answer. For the most part, he'd been honest with the human, his only lie sprouting about what was to be done to her later in the evening.

But he knew how she was looking at the situation, and to deny he knew her insanity seemed an insult somehow.

"You knew."

The words weren't accusing nor said in terror.

Just acceptance.

"Well, since our little relationship or whatever this is, expires in a few hours, I need to know this," she decided, settling both hands in between her knees. "Demetri...did you know Sulpicia was going to hurt me?"

"I did not," he responded honestly. "In fact, I was countries away, unaware of Sulpicia's plans. My master phoned me to begin a search for her after she hadn't returned home in over a week. It was my understanding that she would have been back for her anniversary."

Almost instantly, Demetri regretted mentioning this part. While the human retained the conviction of survival, he also knew some regret still lingered inside of her regarding her actions.

"Her anniversary?" she repeated, surprised. "How long were they going to be married for?"

"Personally, I think it doesn't matter nor should it be something you should dwell on. Just remind yourself what would have happened had you not fought back."

She wordlessly gazed out towards the city, expression sealed tight.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she began, "but it seems like you understand what I had to do. In a way that isn't expected of you. And in a way that would get you in trouble with your master were he to get word of your...softness toward me."

"You are correct," he admitted, fixated on her face.

"And tonight...when your master finally comes...I'll be on my own, won't I? All of this activity and words we've shared, it's going to have to be forgotten about. Tucked away, right?"

Demetri quickly tore his eyes away, unsure as to why such heavy guilt struck him at her words. Of course he knew it would eventually lead to this. The human would be handed over to Aro and Aro would do as he wished with her. Sulpicia was a Volturi member. An instant death sentence would be placed on the individual held responsible for her death.

But when Demetri replaced the term 'the human' with Rachel, suddenly, his duties seemed deceitful. All of the comforting words he'd said to her, the companionship he'd offered, what he'd learned made her laugh or frown...it wouldn't matter in the end because she would be suffering such an agonizing death he knew she didn't deserve.

And he was leading her there.

"Yes," he answered, helpless to say anything else.

"Okay," she mumbled, blinking a few times. "Then I guess I'll answer your question from last night. When you wanted to know how I first met her. But...I don't want to talk about the torture. Right now, I'm just barely holding on to the good time I've been having and I really can't afford to prematurely get rid of it."

"That's understood," he accepted.

"Good. First, I just want to mention that I'm still confused as to why she picked me. I mean, before she entered my life, I didn't bother anyone. I'll admit to being a bit lonely, sure, but I didn't mind it. I never pestered anyone or flaunted myself in places I didn't belong. I stayed inside my apartment for the most part, living a sheltered existence that suited me just fine. I really was a no one in the safest way possible," she explained. "But for some reason, Sulpicia knocked on my door."

"She was pleasant at first?"

"Yes, but I found her suspicious right away. I didn't have any friends, no boyfriends, and I'd lost contact with my family over three years ago. But there she stood, asking to be invited in. I only did it because she seemed intent on talking to me. She said she had information I'd be interested to hear."

"What was it?"

"She never said. From the moment she entered my apartment, she actually pestered me about who I was. Really insignificant questions that quickly had me knowing something was off about her. About a half hour later, I asked her to leave. Her questions were getting really...personal. But of course, this is when she broke the charade. From then on, it went down hill."

A moment of silence settled between them, and Demetri found himself looking up, studying the ashy clouds above. In some spots, it looked like the sun wanted to peek through, but the stubborn grey refused this entry.

"I think a lot of it was psychological torture from what she said," Rachel recalled. "Granted, I've heard it all before, but it felt awful to have those wounds torn open once more. She never quite got me to feel suicidal, but I accepted on the second day, to appease her, that my existence was nothing compared to her own. And I think she was a very vain woman to force that sort of confession from me."

"That does sound like her," he mentioned, disgusted by the woman all over again.

"And, she had a particular fascination with my body."

Demetri's eyebrows rose as he flicked his eyes back toward the human.

"Whatever for?" he questioned, puzzled.

"I don't know," she admitted, shrugging. "She told me with each cut that she was successfully keeping all men away from me. That each time I would look at myself in the shower, I would feel ashamed and disgusted with what I saw. She wanted me to feel worthless and she wanted to mark my body in a way that would horrify me."

Ignoring the rumble of anger inside him, Demetri took a casual scan down the human's form. The cuts he knew to be located beneath her clothes, did not smell as fresh as they had the night before because they probably had a chance to heal somewhat.

And yet, even though he hadn't seen them, he knew those scars would be on her forever.

"She must have been livid when she realized she could not break your spirit," Demetri finally commented.

An unexpected chortle passed through her lips and the vampire internally relaxed at the smile she shot him.

"You have _no_ idea. I don't think I even knew what real spirit was until I felt myself fighting back against everything she said and did. It was like my mind made the decision for me. It said you are not going to let this bitch take away who you are with a few flicks of a knife. And the more she insulted me, the more determined I got. I could tell she didn't understand what her words were doing and I took advantage of this when the time came. I remember being so angry that I had gotten myself into the situation. Angry at her for intruding on my life when I had done nothing to her. Just...anger."

"I am glad you knew how to handle it. Not many release their anger in beneficial ways."

"Well, anger and I are old friends. His visit has been long overdue."

"I honestly never saw you as an angry person," he admitted. "You appear far too composed and mature to let such an emotion guide you."

"That's funny because it almost sounds plausible the way you say it. Unfortunately, I'm not as unmarked by it as it would appear. I have had anger issues in the past with people and a lot of times, myself. But I choose not to deal with that anger by exploding, at least not anymore because it solves nothing. Instead, I kind of keep it built up or I write it out. I'd almost forgotten how empowering and out of control it feels to be led by such an unforgiving emotion. Which is another reason I'm even more nervous about tonight. This time, your master will be in the grips of anger."

"Don't be nervous," Demetri insisted. "Don't even think about it. Enjoy your time now."

Again, she smiled, but he felt disheartened at the lack of any real conviction.

For the next fifteen minutes, they busied themselves with enjoying the wheel's constant, soothing rotation, intent on plunging them down, causing a tickle to develop in both of their tummies, before slinging them back up, a vast clash of wilderness and industrialization displayed before them.

Demetri wanted to imprint this memory to mind. With so many centuries of staying cooped up in Volterra, this experience was quite literally a breath of fresh air. A moment so unlike any he'd ever experienced. A so very simple pleasure that didn't include death or blood.

And no matter what tragedy united this human's and his own path, he knew he wouldn't like to have spent his time upon the ferris wheel with anyone else but Rachel because she too recognized the incredible beauty in such a small moment in time.

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed as they ascended up into the atmosphere once more. "Look!"

He followed her pointed finger up towards the sky.

Quite suddenly, a rush of panic spilled open inside him as he watched the clouds weakly part and allow the stray rays of sunlight to descend upon the world below.

Nervously, he tried shifting in his seat, wishing he'd have thought to bring a coat with a hood, but he was very well trapped in his position. And the only way down would be to risk exposing what he was. So, grudgingly, he stayed rigidly in his seat.

The clouds kept on parting, unaware of Demetri's growing unease, seemingly rebelling against each other as more sun lighted the graying world below.

He felt an unexpected warmness strike him on the face just as their cart paused at the highest peak of the ride. And again, he cursed irony as the malevolent bitch she was.

"Um...Demetri," Rachel spoke up, one hand coming to wrap cautiously around his bicep, "you're...uh, sparkling."

Demetri only kept his eyes averted from her own in a paralyzing embarrassment, silently cursing as the sun continued to shine on down.

"You sparkle," she repeated carefully, this time as if trying to deduce a problem.

"So it would seem," came his tight reply.

"Huh," she mused, shaking her head as her eyes traveled over his beaming, lighted skin. "That's unexpected. But cool."

Furrowing his brows, the vampire turned his attentions back toward the human.

"Cool?"

"You learn something new about people each day. Artie can swing one of his legs over his neck. My landlord knows how to throw knives. You sparkle. It's not a big deal."

His relief was so staggering that he couldn't help but explode in laughter, the cart shaking with his amusement. Of course she would find it endearing rather than weird, and he liked her all the more for that.

"May I?" she inquired.

After his mirth had calmed, Demetri nodded, watching her outstretched hand with a far more calm body.

Her fingers brushed over his cheek ever so carefully, but the contact soothed him in a way he hadn't felt for a despondently long while. A contact he couldn't even quite explain the importance of.

It simply felt right - carefree, especially with the soft smile playing on her lips.

"You are without a doubt, the strangest man I've ever met," she announced gently, dropping her arm. "And I know that tonight, we won't be on the same side anymore. But I do genuinely want to thank you for giving this day to me. And letting me clear my conscious of what I've done."

Demetri absorbed the human sadly, the bruises and markings just as apparent as the unbroken spirit still existing inside her eyes, even if she hid it so very well.

Again, that guilt rustled uncomfortably inside him, angrily scolding him for willingly sending a woman to a death she really didn't deserve. Scolding him because the story resting beneath her gaze, would not be one he would ever get the luxury of hearing, perhaps finally shedding light on the poems she wrote.

Ever so briefly, his cursings shifted to Aro for marrying such a merciless bitch. For allowing her to kill and slaughter without limit. Letting her gain the notion that the world would part in two for her footsteps, so long as she displayed her blatant and arrogant strength.

All of those instances of greed and gluttony led to the meeting between Rachel and Sulpicia, and he faintly wondered whether this was always meant to be Rachel's fate. To go through whatever troubles she had and survive against all odds, just to be tortured once more and murdered.

"You're welcome," was all he responded with, offering her his opened palm, still shining brightly underneath the dying sunlight.

As the truth of what he was doing, slowly started to settle in, Demetri knew that guilt would not wave from his insides. And even after the human's death, it would still sit, caged and delirious, taunting him with the knowledge that he could have saved her, even if damning himself in the process.

Rachel slipped her cold hand in his without caution, and for the moment, Demetri allowed himself to bathe in the temporary peace of this moment, knowing the human was doing much of the same.

* * *

**Next chapter and the Volturi finally arrive! Too bad Demetri's gotten so attached to Rachel, eh? Also, next chapter will be the first time I'll be writing from Rachel's POV. I feel because I haven't yet, as an audience, you guys might feel a bit disconnected from her. Whether you do or not, she will primarily lead narration and heck, it might be the last chapter with her in it. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to all who reviewed. I'm intensely sorry this took so long to get out, but it was a very important chapter and I wanted to try to nail it as well as I could from what I had in my head. Which meant taking a lot of time to work on it. I also want to mention that I am not your typical twilight fan. I don't like the books, and I'm writing this story primarily from what I've seen in the movies, this last movie in particular. Though I'm not a huge fan of the series, there are characters who stand out to me and I feel inspired to write about them. I wasn't aware that a vampire couldn't be killed by a human as a reviewer pointed out to me and that their skin could only be pierced by other vampire's teeth or a supernatural creature's strength, so I do apologize if you feel like this story is improbable. But I suppose there's a first time for everything and I just wanted to show that a human isn't always as defenseless as perhaps the series makes them out to be. There are still mixed thoughts on Rachel, but it is an angst story so despite how much one might not like her attitude or personality, understand that there is a reason she got that way, and provided Aro doesn't totally destroy her this chapter, I will gradually be getting into a back story of sorts for her. Just as well, this is the first chapter where it will be told primarily from her POV so hopefully some sort of connection can be sparked between you as an audience and her as a character. If not, then I suppose you guys can cheer Aro on! Oh, and this one is a honker of a chapter. There were so many places I could have split this up, but I just didn't because it needed to be written. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Rachel sunk lower into the scalding bath tub water, ignoring the throbs of her open wounds. For the moment, the pleasure of heat against her chilled skin outweighed any of the pain.

Outside her bathroom, Demetri paced nervously, a task he'd been indulging in ever since they'd both returned from Isla del Sol.

Rachel couldn't say exactly as the man had sort of shut himself off from her after they'd returned, but she did think he had enjoyed himself, and that in turn caused an unforseen happiness to swell up inside her.

In only a little more than a day, the strange man unexpectedly came to be regarded as one of the closest allies she'd had in a despairingly long time. He listened with a remarkable patience to her thoughts, he never once blamed her for what she'd done to stay alive even though he worked for the man whose wife she'd killed, and to top it off, she felt safe in his company.

That one was a personal shocker she had to marvel at. Actually feeling safe in another person's company, much less a man's? Perhaps she was making more progress with herself than she realized.

In the end, though, it came down to a matter of trust between herself and Demetri.

Yes, she did trust him to a point, recognizing how she'd opened herself up to him so easily when she had a difficult time simply speaking to the local grocery store clerk about purchasing a gallon of milk.

But at this moment, she reluctantly understood that this trust would have to be forgotten about. Put out of memory. Eradicated.

Shortly, Demetri's friends would be inside her apartment and ultimately, duty would win out over whatever temporary bond they'd shared.

Tragic, but it was the way the world worked. And Rachel knew enough of life's misfortunes to recognize she wouldn't be left unscathed for killing Sulpicia, even if the act was justifiable.

With a deep sigh, Rachel lowered her head back and closed both weary eyes. It was time to turn her thoughts to a more pleasant topic.

_Demetri sparkles._

She struggled to contain a chuckle at this unexpected revelation. It _had_ to be a skin condition as the man was ungodly pale to begin with, and yet the image still lingered in her thoughts hours later. How was it possible for a human to appear as if someone had personally injected diamonds into their skin?

Underneath the sun, she honestly could say he'd looked stunning, despite whatever unfortunate disability was responsible.

But seeing how uncomfortable the whole experience had made him, she settled for simply relaying her awe through a touch of his shimmering cheek. It wasn't everyday a man randomly sparkled under the sunlight, but she would disregard the action as nothing more than a condition and just go with the flow.

What else could it have been anyway?

Her eyes fluttered back open at Demetri's unexpected pause upon the carpet, but reality still felt millions of miles away. Quite soon, she knew she'd have to return, to put on her big girl panties so to speak and face the consequences of her actions. Consequences that even had Demetri anxious.

A hopeful part of her wondered if she couldn't still get through to these people about why she did what she did. If it swayed Demetri, perhaps her explanation would have some sort of impact on them as well.

Unfortunately, seeing Demetri so anxious informed her that this was a lost cause to begin with.

And yet, for the life of her she just couldn't muster up the proper fear.

She kept reasoning it out in her mind that these people wouldn't be so bold as to outright murder her. She may not have much left for family, but her landlord, currently on vacation for the week, would note her disappearance as well as the few neighbors she'd run into in the time she'd lived here.

Killing her _had_ to be too risky.

Or maybe she hoped it was. With the slashes on her pink skin crippling her movements and the bruises still throbbing murderously upon her own face, Rachel wasn't exactly sure she'd be able to showcase the same miraculous strength she'd displayed against Sulpicia.

_They'll turn me into the police. Or fly right through a trial and throw me into prison. _

These were the actions she was expecting to be taken tonight, the actions she at least hoped would be, even though inside a place deep within her, a voice warned that her situation was far more grave than she could imagine.

_Who does Demetri work for anyway?_

The only guess she found reasonable enough to make some inkling of sense was the mafia. Granted, it seemed ridiculous if she thought about it for too long, but it certainly explained why Demetri held such loyalty to his "master" and hardly batted an eyelash at the remains of Sulpicia's body. It also explained why he referred to his peers as masters and why the police were not yet breaking down her door.

It still frustrated her greatly, not knowing why Sulpicia sought her out specifically and decided to engage in a destructive game of captor and captee. One would think as the wife of a mob boss, she'd find other things to preoccupy her time with. Like shopping. Or hosting parties. Letting loose her anger in a shooting range perhaps.

But no. Sulpicia chose to make her suffer.

_Maybe that's how she got her kicks. _

She did remember Demetri mentioning that the woman's anniversary was approaching. Could it be possible that the three day torture had been a personal gift to herself?

This thought caused Rachel to shiver even while dipped inside the steaming water. She knew there existed human beings with heartless natures, but this unsavory thought took just a little while longer to wrap her head around.

Then again, didn't some of the most ruthless serial killers enjoy toying with their victims before killing them?

The more she indulged this thought, the cooler the water she soaked in seemed to feel.

Whatever did happen tonight, Rachel promised herself at least one thing.

She would not cower in front of these men.

Cowering had made Sulpicia's joy only that much greater in the first days of their time together, particularly when Rachel had naïvely pleaded with her to stop, assuming the woman had carried some sort of mercy.

_"Come on, princess. I know you will enjoy these pretty patterns. Another cut for a useless body! Beg away, I don't care. It is sweet music to my ears."_

Blinking back the burning in her eyes, Rachel catapulted this thought away, ignoring the tremble erupting in both of her hands as the memory replayed itself tauntingly.

No, she had seen personally that this served only as an aphrodisiac. Fear tended to do that, she knew, to the most despicable of people.

So, when staring Sulpicia's husband in the eye, she wouldn't display any fear, even if Demetri wanted her to. She owed this to herself, to maintain at least some dignity, especially if this man turned out to be just as bloodthirsty and vicious as Sulpicia.

_Where has my life gone? What had to have happened to where I'm facing incarceration for the rest of my life?_

She wanted desperately to curse at the injustice of it all, blame irony, perhaps. It would be only jokingly, but at least she had an excuse for her misfortunes.

Sadly enough, a side of Rachel observed her situation realistically and couldn't help but think she partly deserved what was coming.

_This certainly shows that the past never truly leaves us._

That past, unforgiving and muddled, still existed in Rachel's uneven life. Moving across the country and sheltering herself away, never changed this fact.

_But haven't I made my peace? Before I left, I knew I'd been forgiven, even if it is still so difficult for me to accept to this very day. Am I just being unnecessarily harsh, thinking I still deserve to be hurt for what's already come to pass? It certainly makes sense. In those three days, I never once believed I deserved to have the scars and bruises I did. I never thought I'd ever hurt someone so badly as to warrant this sort of karma._

"Damn it," Rachel muttered, blowing away the bubbles near her lips. Couldn't things have been simpler? Did she always have to mess the good things up?

"Is there something wrong?"

Arching a puzzled brow, Rachel threw her eyes to the door, curious as to how Demetri had heard such a low spoken curse.

"No. I'm fine."

"You are sure?"

She made sure not to melt a little bit at the concern resting in his voice, even if it sounded so soothing to hear. She couldn't under any circumstances, look to Demetri for help tonight.

Surprisingly, this wasn't because she knew she'd feel disappointed if he looked the other way.

No, it rested in the marginal fear that Demetri actually would do something to help her. And with the kindness she'd witnessed buried inside him, she didn't under any circumstances want to put him in such a compromising position. Those kind of people only so rarely revealed their true selves, and the last thing Rachel wanted was for Demetri to die because he had.

Another unfortunate soul hurt thanks to her actions.

"I'm very sure, Demetri. I'll be out in five minutes."

"Alright."

With that, Rachel raised two clammy hands, dunked her head a final time beneath the lukewarm water before making her way into a standing position, fighting back the whimpers she wanted to emit as each scar reawoke from their temporary paralyzation.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

Rachel slipped out of her bedroom a half hour after her bath, wearing nothing but faded, indigo jeans and a charcoal t-shirt. She'd been half tempted to throw on a sweatshirt as well because of the unwavering cold spell seeming to hit her apartment in the last few days. Normally, she kept the temperature at a comfortable 68, but it easily felt ten degrees lower.

"You look...presentable."

Offering Demetri's tailored coat a dry grin, Rachel raked at her burgundy hair, shaking the remaining wet tresses out. They just barely brushed over her shoulders and she enjoyed keeping them short nowadays. Definitely far less of a hassle to style it.

Plus, when all those inches had been chopped away three years ago, it signified a personal metamorphosis from what she'd been.

"I don't know what to expect," she replied honestly, observing his perfectly straight posture. "I doubt their perceptions would change if I tried to look presentable."

Demetri didn't offer up a comment, instead, shifting his eyes to the door and with this gesture, Rachel finally understood his façade was in place. From here on out, she was on her own.

So, the two stood with a considerable distance between them for a good fifteen minutes, simply watching the front door to her apartment. Demetri did this of course with an ever straight and admirable posture, both hands clasped over his stomach, gaze unwavering. Rachel, on the other hand, would move from one foot to the other whenever one position threatened to put her foot to sleep, blinking far too rapidly so as to push away all of the unfavorable scenarios to happen within the hour.

Evening had long ago set in and if it weren't for a few lamps she'd flicked on, her entire place would be shrouded in complete darkness. This atmosphere alone served to heighten the unspoken sense of foreboding.

Thankfully, that fear Rachel had been told to feel, still hadn't hit her yet. Which kept her in a fair mood. In fact, it offered her a bit of optimism, even though from Demetri's tightly wound stance, she knew not to embrace it for too long.

_I had a fantastic day. That is something to cling on to. _

The minutes traveled by faster the longer Rachel recalled image by image, her day at Isla del Sol. She couldn't even remember how she'd stumbled upon the park, but she was thankful she had. Everything from the uniquely purple, arched entrance way to Artie's good-natured views of life, helped bring back a restless inner child who craved the rarity of reliving an innocence so long ago abandoned.

Though, she could admit shedding that innocence had been partly her fault.

Still, with the hurried way she'd flounced out of her childhood, by the time shit metaphorically hit the fan, it was too late to turn back and embrace those ages for what they had been. A haven.

As Rachel continued this thought, she mildly wondered if she'd just experienced an epiphany. A realization about how wanting to grow up far before her time, led her to approach adult situations with a very child-like mind.

_Wow...what else can I fish out of my subconscious while I await my punishment?_

This question never got answered because at that very moment, Demetri jerked violently in his position.

"What's wrong?" Rachel observed, biting back the urge to console him as he straightened himself up.

An intensely long second passed by before Demetri replied, and with the vague silence, Rachel could begin to feel the first touches of unease brewing inside her.

"They are...here."

The three word statement sounded strained on Demetri's part and when Rachel finally broke through her feigned indifference and made a step forward, she found a deep perplexity resting on his face.

"Stay where you are," he commanded, not even sparing her a glance as he stomped to the front door.

Seconds later and he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.

Rachel did as he said, but not without that unease seemingly feeding itself at his departure.

The fear wasn't quite yet there, but boy did she certainly feel it approaching.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

Demetri raced down the remaining four floors, ceasing in his steps only when reaching the inside of the lobby.

"Demetri! Long time no see," Felix exclaimed, one thumb wiping away a trickle of blood.

"Felix," he regarded with a slight bow of the head, one corner of his lip rising. "I was not aware you were coming."

The burly man laughed, one gloved hand resting on his stomach.

"Aro's brought the whole gang, it would seem. Alec, Jane, and myself included."

Smiling without humor, Demetri stared at Felix's lone form before glancing at the double doors behind him. He of course knew Aro would bring Jane, but Alec and Felix were surprises.

Yet, it took only a few seconds of calculation to determine why they were here. Aro wanted tonight to be a public humiliation. Just as well, Felix was equipped with a brutal strength while Alec's gift allowed him to poison his enemies.

"Aro wants a great deal of suffering to come to the little bitch tonight," Felix explained, seemingly reading his brief bewilderment. "Personally, I am excited. With the battle we didn't get in Forks, I'm practically dying to rip apart a limb or two."

"Where are the others?" Demetri inquired, deciding not to linger on Felix's threat.

"Indulging in a little snack," he mentioned offhandedly, studying the lobby surroundings with an upturned nose. "How ever did you manage to shack yourself up with the human in this filthy place? It wreaks terribly of waste. Tell me, is the human a pathetic junkie? Or better yet...a common whore? If so, this might potentially be more fun than I envisioned."

"It is not my place to care what the human is. Though, I should think you would not lower yourself so much as to want her attentions."

Felix shrugged, casting a quick glance behind him.

"Once properly submissive, humans do have their uses," he admitted. "As disastrous as the party of 1799 had been, the Swedish coven did train their pets rather impressively."

Demetri revealed a dark smile, crossing his arms.

"Do you have any idea of what exactly Aro plans on occurring this evening?"

"None specifically, but I know he will make it last. This is Sulpicia we are talking about, after all. Her murderer will not be having the luxury of an easy death."

Demetri of course feared this, but actually hearing this realization aloud only built up that piteous guilt stored inside him.

But he kept his features smooth and uncompromised, watching as one by one, the rest of his family filed in.

Jane and Alec entered first, content smirks gracing each of their youthful faces. Aro would demand their abilities the most out of anyone else's this evening, he assumed.

Then came Caius, practically glowing with smears of crimson blood still scattered across his mouth.

"Why clean up when I will only be getting dirty again?" he remarked pleasantly at Demetri's focused gaze.

Although he knew they all traveled as one, Demetri was still surprised to see Marcus drift into the room, features radiating their usual melancholy. The two exchanged nods with each other, though Demetri got the impression Marcus wanted to be here just as much as a chicken wanted to enter a slaughterhouse.

The doors swung open one final time and Aro strolled in, wearing a thick, midnight black coat and equally black dress pants. He appeared put together, showing no signs of what his thoughts could possibly be, even though Demetri guessed torture and abuse had to be stumbling around in there.

"Demetri, my friend, how wonderful it is to see you again!" Aro announced, mirroring Felix's earlier excitement with an open grin. He strode forward, pulling off his black gloves in the process.

Demetri did the same with his own, offering his white palm. "I admit being away from home makes it seem like years have passed. It's a shame these are the circumstances we have to meet again under."

"Indeed," Aro responded non-committingly, reaching for his hand. "A formality, of course. I need to see this all for myself."

Without resistance, Demetri grasped onto Aro's pale hand, careful to keep himself just as poised.

As Aro shuffled breezily through his experiences, beginning with the entrance into South Carolina, Demetri stared unblinkingly at Jane before him. Out of all the members of his family, Jane was the closest one who retained the talent of masking her emotions almost as flawlessly as he. And while it must have appeared strange to the others of how intensely he watched her, Demetri knew he had to focus on her unmerciful stare or else he'd find his thoughts rushing to the human awaiting her slaughter upstairs.

After what seemed like an eternity, Aro ever so slowly released Demetri's hand, blinking himself as he absorbed all that he'd seen.

Breaking away his own gaze, Demetri turned to Aro, knowing the man had questions.

However, a dazed look had overcome his master's features and rather than ask a question, he released a statement.

"You appear to have gotten...close to the human."

He wasn't sure if this was an accusation or a threat. Either way, he understood if there wasn't a proper explanation, it might make him look as if he were on the human's side.

"If I hadn't, I feared she would have tried to escape," Demetri reasoned.

"Of course," Aro agreed leisurely, still appearing as if something didn't quite make sense to him. "You performed your duties stupendously, my friend. As a reward, I will allow you to snap the first bone in her body."

Demetri made an attempt at a grateful smile, but it lacked in sincerity from the moment it began. And only Aro was studying him closely enough to detect it for what it was.

"Surely you will want to participate in our handling out of justice?"

"Yes," Demetri confirmed with a vigorous nod. "Though, I am afraid I have not hunted properly in over three days. If I do break her bone and blood is released...I will expect to also have the comfort of draining her as well."

"Perhaps that's not the best option," Caius spoke up. "We want her to suffer properly, do we not? Why not do the honors yourself, brother?"

For a moment, Demetri thought Aro would demand he remove his contact lenses, especially with the intense way the man continued to watch him. If that happened, he'd see a bright, sated red reflecting back at him, showing Demetri had fed earlier in the morning.

To his unspoken relief, though, Aro did nothing of the sort.

"Prepare her for us, won't you?" he offered pleasantly instead.

"She will be at your disposal by the time you step foot inside the apartment," Demetri promised.

His master offered him a final nod and with that, Demetri began a casual walk towards the staircase.

The rest of his family would of course have to make sure no witnesses would be present for what was to come, but Demetri knew they were only delaying the inevitable.

Within the hour, Rachel would be facing her death.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

The woman in question tiredly rubbed at the back of her neck, still watching the entrance to her apartment cautiously. Demetri had been gone for a good five minutes, and in her overactive imagination, a multitude of bizarre explanations reached her.

But as the five minutes stretched on without incident, she felt herself slowly relaxing. As nerve wracking as it was to wait for Demetri, it also provided her with much needed time to build up that backbone she felt herself lacking at the moment.

The last thing she wanted was to give in to fear. It was ultimately such a useless emotion, a poison to thoughts and a petrification to any sense of courage.

She was so, so _tired_ of experiencing the shudders and the trembles and the nightmares and the inability to speak properly to strangers as was familiar to her lifestyle prior to this point and time. Those moments had been filled with such misery and paranoia that eventually, she simply forgot what it meant to function individually, not robotically.

For once, Rachel wanted to face a fearful situation with confidence. It didn't have to be of the situation turning out alright, but more of the guarantee that whatever happened would not cause her to crumble within herself and make a home there indefinitely as was her habit when the world got just a little bit too stressful.

And there it was again. An uenexpected epiphany. What did that make it now...two in a row?

If she did survive this incident in one piece, Rachel was now determined to live differently, especially as she gazed around her darkened, empty apartment where so little had happened over such a long, stale period of time.

Only when she experienced that loss of freedom and dignity from Sulpicia's hands and cruel mouth, did she realize how long she'd been truly afraid for. Assured that if she kept herself out of society, out of people's way, trouble wouldn't find her. Sheltered away so even she herself didn't recognize what was happening to her.

Now that trouble had reached her, Rachel understood how she'd wasted all those years filled with mistrust, not making the most of what she had.

And as she thought this over, the reality of surviving against Sulpicia's mad terror and impossible strength, seemed only that much more astounding. How was it someone who disregarded their own life so easily, managed to take away the life of such a threatening and powerful enemy?

Then again, Rachel knew that in her own way, Sulpicia disregarded life just as easily, though not in a pitying way. The woman was confident and trusting of her invincibility, and in this, she had been blind to see what lengths a victim would go to to survive.

In a way, it was tragically funny. Two individuals crossing paths, both holding a dissatisfaction with life in opposite manners.

And yet, one of them held the will to survive over the other, even if it was just a fraction more.

For the first time since he'd said it, Rachel understood Demetri's comment upon their first night together.

_"For a woman who murdered another to stay alive, you remain remarkably passionless toward your own life."_

It was the unabiding truth. She had been passionless because she remained convinced there was no longer something to believe in.

But in reality, the belief rested in what she'd done.

There was a reason she retained hope in those three days of physical and psychological torture, a reason she kept on swinging the axe down, ignoring the splatters of blood and inhuman screams of the woman, a reason her desire to survive outweighed for just the tiniest moment in time, Sulpicia's own.

If she had fought so damned hard to stay alive, surely there was a reason why. And while it hadn't yet revealed itself, Rachel knew not to treat this incident as foolishly as she'd been doing so. She survived because she wanted it more than anything in the world. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to recognize this fact for what it was.

As these series of swift revelations smacked into her with an uncanny strength, Rachel was caught in between the urge to laugh dementedly and to cry like she'd just been stabbed.

_So this is what figuring yourself out feels like. A bit exhausting, but I can't say I'm not relieved in a way with the discoveries._

Granted, time would still have to be taken for these steps to be issued. With her mindset, it wasn't so easy to turn around and embrace life without boundaries. She'd done that before and it turned out for the worst.

But at least she'd make an attempt. Even if she was facing a lifelong imprisonment.

Hilarious how revelations always struck people in the most grave of situations, wasn't it?

In the middle of wondering whether to blame meddlesome irony once more, the door to her apartment suddenly flew open.

Rachel jumped on instinct, but settled herself when she saw it was only Demetri.

The man himself stalked toward her across the carpet, determined gaze in his eyes, and with these swift of steps, that unease crept back in.

Rather than speak, Demetri grabbed an arm and tugged her body into his own, chill lips positioning themselves directly over an ear as one hand cradled her shoulder.

"Rachel," he whispered so lowly she actually had to strain to hear him, "no matter what happens tonight, I want you to know that you have nothing to feel guilt or sorrow for. You are a _good_ person who many tragic things have happened to and despite what will be said in vindictiveness, know that you deserve none of it. Nod if you understand me."

She did so without thought, heart hammering painfully against her ribs. And only when this happened, did Demetri release her arm and allow her to find his eyes.

What sat inside his light brown gaze, alerted her that something sinister was approaching and that Demetri wouldn't be able to stop it even if he could.

More than that, his eyes revealed a heartbreaking guilt swimming around ever so calmly within his irises.

"It's okay," she managed to say with quaky lips, accepting Demetri's stance. She'd known it from the moment he'd found her.

Of course that didn't make it any less sad to see, but at least she didn't feel blindsided by it.

Demetri backed away from her, but not before placing a firm, last minute kiss upon her forehead that seemed to shoot straight through to her brain.

Rachel wanted to say more, but words left her and too soon, he returned to watching the door, face devoid of any lingering sympathy.

Helplessly, she stared ahead as well, containing the fear as best as she could.

Just as she successfully brought down the race of her heart beat, the door to her apartment busted open with a teeth chattering _**BANG!**_

She tried not to marvel openly at the large man who strode through, but she'd honestly never seen anyone in her life quite like him, even though one could easily pluck him from a mafia film.

He was uncommonly tall with a brutish like body and a snow-white face holding a malevolent grin. Faintly, she thought he could have been attractive with his dark features, but the fear he emitted simply by walking into a room, ruined all romantic notions.

The giant brute made his way over to Demetri's side confidently, not shy about hiding his observation of her.

"The bitch is pretty, I'll give you that," he commented. "But those bruises...they are rather awful, aren't they?"

The words stung momentarily, but Rachel shrugged them off.

With the insult, he'd suddenly been transformed in front of her very eyes from an intimidating fiend to nothing more than a bully. And she'd had enough experiences with bullies to know not to give them the satisfaction of seeing their words wound you.

The door swept open once more to reveal a young boy and girl, appearing almost twin-like in their synchronized stares. They strolled inside, perfectly in tune with each other, appearing just as pale and intimidating as the first man had been. But unlike the first man, they offered no taunts after taking in her form, only a cold observation.

Rachel's fear dimmed just the slightest, internally relieved they had nothing to say.

They slithered their way over to the entrance of her kitchen, well within her eyesight, but obviously blocking a way of escape should she become bold or rash.

Rachel turned back to the door and felt her heart nearly crash into her rib cage as the next man entered the room.

He was a proud looking blonde whose menacing features were purposeful and cruel. In fact, she knew just by a scan, everything about him was a show to instill nothing short of heart wrenching fear. And while she fought against it, a dread did seep in when she located blood smeared proudly across his red lips.

"So you are Sulpicia's murderer?" the man announced as if he'd just learned the news, making his way forward, but not into touching distance. "Just as pathetic as I imagined."

Immediately, Rachel knew she hated the man. More so than any other being in the room. Where this sudden anger freed itself from, she couldn't be sure, but its existence extinguished the need to cower and fueled the urge to fight back if only to show she wasn't nearly as weak as he perceived her to be.

"With your face," she neutrally retorted, offering him a close head to toe study, "I'd re-examine the definition of pathetic."

She had no idea where that bout of bravery had come from, stupid bravery perhaps, but bravery nonetheless.

The man's smirk fell instantly, though, causing Rachel to cheer silently inside.

"I will revel in _every_ scream you make," the blonde man threatened icily, seemingly wanting to continue toward her, but deciding against it at the last second.

Rachel chose not to respond, knowing this carefree action would only infuriate the man.

And as he made his way over to the boy and girl, she could practically feel the bruising force of his withering glares strike at her cool features. Internally, she applauded herself for not wavering underneath the venom he'd protruded forth.

The next person who made their presence known, momentarily took away whatever discomfort and anxiety she'd been experiencing and instead, replaced it with curiosity.

The older brunette man marched in with a frown, almost somber, if she was interpreting it correctly, and oddly familiar because she'd seen that dead look so many times on her own face.

When the man noticed her eyes wandering over his lips and brow, he met them with a mustered force.

And to her surprise, he actually ceased in his movements, that somberness swiftly retreating as he began a study of her as well.

Rachel held on to his gaze the longest because it was the most non-threatening one in the whole room, but quite quickly, she had to break it off. His dark eyes had formed a visible interest in her and the last thing she needed was another of Demetri's friends to fear.

A tense second played out of naked observation before the man finally made his way toward Demetri. At this, she released a silent sigh, the muscles bunched up in her shoulders, growing lax.

If Rachel would have done a quick glance around the room, she'd have noticed they surrounded her in an incomplete semi-circle.

And the only spot vacant was the entrance to the room.

Rachel bravely rose her eyes, but she didn't look at anyone specifically. So far, the fear hadn't yet taken over and she was sporting a reasonably clear mind. She was also careful not to so much as look at anyone out of the corner of her eye, knowing the indifferent facade she'd been wearing, might crumble upon their harsh stares.

Instead, she stared at the open door for all it was worth, somehow knowing that not only was there one more person yet to join them, but this person would be Sulpicia's husband.

With all the individuals who had stepped forth, Rachel couldn't exactly say what she expected to transpire throughout the evening. Yes, each person in their own way sparked a terror inside her. She knew now why Demetri had pushed the issue forward on his friends. They were truthfully a terrifying lot, especially with the unhealthy glow of their eyes.

And yet, she didn't feel true fear like she ought to have.

At first, she couldn't understand why.

But the more she pondered it over, the more she realized each being in their own way, were people Rachel had already encountered in her life. Their disarmingly stunning looks and intimidating presence failed to hide what she could pick out as their true natures.

Cold.

Angry.

And ruthless.

Although their personalities were something she could partly understand, there was still a question she had which confused her greatly. Why was it that each gaze minus Demetri's, appeared to hold a dangerous hue of red inside it?

The blonde man and girl could have passed for albinos perhaps, but definitely not the rest of them.

So, even though unease coursed plainly through her veins, an undying curiosity also rose. If Demetri's friends were indeed the mafia, why were they so weird looking?

Rachel risked a glance at Demetri, hoping he'd shine some light on where his friends hailed from.

But the man only watched the open door dutifully, eyes unmoving.

Reluctantly, Rachel's eyes too turned to the entrance. The tension in the room increased to where it felt suffocating as everyone awaited the final presence.

But for some reason or other, the last guest lingered back in the darkness.

She couldn't see clearly into the shadows, but there was no mistake that the man stood there without movement. And the longer she stared into the blackness, the more of an outline she could make out. And the more she distinctly felt as if his eyes were solely trained on her, and her alone.

At first, this inspired understanding. Of course he'd want to sum up the woman who'd killed his wife.

But after minutes trailed by and he still resided in the blackness of the hallway, Rachel's understanding lessened. If he felt as much anger as she expected him to, wouldn't he simply march inside and hurl a whirlwind of insults at her? Proudly declare what terrible fate awaited her?

Why take the prolonged minutes of staying to the shadows when it was obvious everyone could detect his presence?

"I'm obviously surrounded," Rachel shouted suddenly, focusing on the darkened hallway. "The least you can do is show your cowardly self."

A hiss erupted from someone in the room, but Rachel studiously ignored it. And to her relief, the magic of her words did their trick.

Not even a second passed by before a man slipped into the room, just as pale as all the other bodies. He had long, nearly pitch black hair reaching down past his elegant white neck into an undetermined length behind him. Ensembled in an expensive coat and pants, he walked with grace and poise, far more put together and unruffled than Rachel expected him to be. And he too displayed that same, unnerving, red gaze as he studied her with stiff shoulders.

Rather than feel that familiar, fearful shudder, Rachel was immediately overcome by intrigue. An intrigue that far outweighed any she had felt for any of the other occupants in the room. She couldn't put a finger as to why it surfaced or what she found so intriguing about him, but the tingly feeling refused to waver.

Aside from the intrigue, he was the first person in the room that she found to be openly handsome. At least more so than his counterparts, in his own way.

At first, she felt ashamed to think such a thing. The guy obviously planned an unhappy night for her.

But after a few seconds of careful study, Rachel ultimately let it be. While she hated Sulpicia with a black passion, she also recognized the woman to be just as dangerously alluring.

Why should her husband not appear to be as well?

"Can we start now? I did purposely have a small snack because I was looking forward to tonight," the tall, burly man inquired, studying Rachel with a mocking smirk.

She pretended not to hear, truthfully unable to tear her eyes away from Sulpicia's husband. Buried beneath even her consciousness, rested an emotion which sighed in disappointment at the unfairness of it all. Sulpicia was able to be insane _and_ snag a fiercely handsome man at the same time? Where was the fairness in that?

To her growing confusion, the man continued to stand rigidly in place, regarding her with wide, intense eyes as if he'd never seen anything like her, completely ignoring what was asked of him. He didn't blink, which freaked her out, nor seem to breathe, and with their locked gaze, she felt like her tummy was dropping out from underneath her.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, sizing each other up, but she let out a deep breath when he took his first step toward her.

"Aro," the blonde man interrupted, a frown marring his lips, "why are we toying with her? Have Jane begin what you brought her for."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel watched as the blonde girl, Jane, stepped forward, focusing her equally red gaze on her with purpose.

Rachel wanted to take a step back at the girl's harsh gaze, but she refused, only staring back at the young girl awkwardly. The blonde man's exclamation didn't make any sense to her, but the girl appeared to know just exactly what to do.

Seconds passed by, but the man remained tight-lipped.

"Have we forgotten how to torture?" the blonde grumbled once more, snapping his head toward the girl. "Jane, I give you full permission to begin what you do best and bring the human to her knees!"

This signaled some sort of unspoken command the girl had been waiting for. With a firm nod, she stepped forward, lips inching up ever so slightly.

A fearful stab shot through Rachel's heart at the lack of expression on the girl's face. Yes, at that age, she'd been just as excellent at disguising her true feelings as well, but seeing this...Jane so meticulously smother even a twitch of an eye, forced her to recognize that whatever was to come next, wouldn't be pleasant.

Rachel nearly shuddered as a steady wave of pricks consumed her body, poking sharply at her skin. They weren't painful necessarily, but their insistency and unexpectedness successfully shot up the beat of her heart to where she could hear nothing other than the rush of blood for a few seconds, feeling as if her chest would constrict on itself at any moment.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

"STOP."

And just like that, the pricking ceased.

Rachel sucked in a greedy breath of air, watching with slumped shoulders and a hand over her chest as the girl's smirk fell. She then threw the raven-haired man a confused look.

In fact, with this loud exclamation, every person inside the room now stared at him.

"Why?" the blonde man snarled, turning. "This is what you've been waiting for, Aro. To make the pathetic human suffer!"

Raising both brows, Rachel risked an uncertain glance at the man who'd been absorbing her so critically.

Aro.

"Jane, you are not to use your ability for the rest of the evening," Aro commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"You have lost your mind! This is the bit-."

"Caius," the man snapped once more, never breaking his gaze away from Rachel's own, "do not make the mistake of going against my command. It will end most unfavorably for you."

A visible wave of surprise passed through each person standing in the room. And just by a quick scan, Rachel knew the evening wasn't turning out the way it was expected.

"No one in this room is to touch this woman," Aro continued steadily, beginning to take short steps toward her. "This...Rachel."

His voice slipped into a momentary affection when calling her by name, and that's when Rachel began moving her way backwards. In just the change of tone, that fear slipped in so quickly that she momentarily had trouble breathing. What she now witnessed in his eyes, what his voice seemed to indicate, she knew very well to be afraid of it, even if she couldn't pin point the source of that fear.

Aro only continued his silent approach, no one making a move to stop him.

Panicked, Rachel felt her backside slam into a lamp. With a sudden yelp, she twirled around, just to watch it fly to the floor and land softly, the shade cushioning most of the blow, but reangling the source of light and further pitching the room into a tense dimness.

"Do not be afraid, dear. As unbelievable as this sounds, even to my own ears, I truly do not wish to hurt you."

The man must have thought this sounded encouraging, but with his predatory stalking forward, Rachel thought the exact opposite as she kept taking baby steps backwards, fingers hoping to come in contact with something she could use as protection.

Only out of a desperation did she find Demetri's gaze, but his outward confusion was just as apparent as everyone else's.

"Demetri," she voiced uncertainly, hands trembling. "I know you're only following command, but please don't let him touch me. PLEASE."

The despair in her tone visibly shook Demetri out of his suptor.

He made to take a step forward, but Aro quickly stopped him in place with his next chilling words.

"Stay in your place, Demetri. If you should be as impulsive as to come to Rachel's defense, I will not hesitate to make my way _through_ you."

As soon as the threat was released, Rachel knew Demetri would be powerless, his regretful frown saying as much.

Without restriction, that foul anger she'd experienced earlier, made a vengeful return, momentarily soothing her fear.

Ever so slowly, she returned her eyes to Aro, shoulders shaking slightly.

"Don't you dare try threatening the only guy who doesn't want to see me dead in this room," Rachel defended angrily. "He might be little in rank compared to you, but at least he's not some mindless zombie, doing your dirty work. I don't know much of you, Aro, but I can tell already that Demetri is ten times the man you could ever be."

Right away, she knew this was the wrong thing to say.

Without warning, Aro dashed straight at her.

The action was so unexpected that she found herself back peddling straight into the hard wall behind her, slamming in to it with wide eyes.

And in a disbelievingly quick second, Aro was standing in a slight bend before her, both palms balancing against the wall on each side, effectively caging her shocked form.

"How the hell did you do that?" she murmured, disbelief rocking her insides at how quickly he'd gotten to her.

This invasion of personal body space allowed Rachel to see just how utterly red the man's eyes were. And at this moment, they were flying over ever single expression she let out.

"You smell...divine," he answered instead, lips parting as he inhaled her. Like a ravenous, starving animal. This hunger extended even into his voice which was intimately deep and holding an accent she couldn't place.

However, the shivers running up Rachel's spine didn't deter her confusion.

"Answer my question," she tried, attempting to keep her voice from shaking as she tried to blend into the wall. "Your eyes aren't a natural color. You're pale. And you're...fast. Like Sulpicia was. How?"

Aro momentarily frowned at the mention of his former wife's name, his eyes scanning over her face...regretfully?

"Do your bruises still hurt?"

His momentary concern, fueled that anger once more.

"Answer my question, damn it!"

She could tell he was prepared to easily say no at her outburst, so with a forced courage, Rachel apologetically added, "Please."

He appeared to debate her plead while her heart kept at a delirious beat.

"For the moment, you are not prepared to hear the truth," he revealed. "Though, I assure you will learn it quite soon."

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly as I say, my dear."

"Don't call me that," she snapped through her panic, narrowing her eyes at his endearing expression.

"It suits you quite nicely, I think. _My_ dear."

He then smiled brightly as if finding this acknowledgment to be the wittiest thing he'd ever said.

And with it, Rachel's puzzlement grew.

"I don't understand why you're not ready to hurt me. Ready to let your friends hurt me. I murdered your wife! Why aren't you angry?"

Granted, she didn't want him to carry out on the threats she spoke of. But the heated clash of confusion and fear rumbling inside her, no longer on a stable equilibrium, demanded some sort of answer to the unexpected turn of events.

"Indeed. Why am I not angry?" he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly. "I know this was the first emotion to fill me when I had learned her fate, but upon finally seeing you, I cannot find the urge inside me to even think of hurting you. In fact, the very thought physically repulses me. Isn't that a peculiar little twist of fate?"

He voiced all this as if it were a joke, but beneath his exterior, Rachel noticed the raw uncertainty and even a panic, though not nearly as powerful as her own, thriving. As if the answer to his questions were just as lost on him.

"You're going to let me go?" she sounded out, not quite trusting herself to invest in such a result.

Rather than answer her, Aro merely offered her a radiant smile. And that smile of white teeth and secret promises, successfully managed to scare the hell out of her.

Sensing the unease, Aro backed up a step, dropping both arms. Instead, he extended a naked hand before him, free of the black glove he wore on his opposite hand.

"Will you please allow me the pleasure?"

Rachel stared untrustingly at the pale limb, not sure where he was going with this, and most certainly not wanting to voluntarily offer her hand.

Nothing felt right about this man. His eyes were creepy, his grins appeared manic, his personality irritated her with an unbalanced rotation between happiness and self-righteousness, and he certainly had no idea how to calm someone down. That much was painfully obvious.

_I'm not going to hurt you, my ass._

And now with his swift dismissal of Sulpicia's death and intense interest in herself, Rachel honestly wanted to do nothing more than slap his hand away.

_He got to me faster than physically possible. Making a run for it sure isn't going to help any. _

The seconds ticked on by, Aro's hand hovering patiently before her, but Rachel still kept up her refusal, her own fingers twitching, looking for a way out of this.

"It's okay, Rachel. He's not going to hurt you."

This calm assurance was voiced from Demetri himself who appeared just as engrossed in their encounter as every other person in the room.

"You're sure?"

Although he'd displayed an urge to help her, she still didn't want to place her trust in a man who could so very easily desert her when she needed him most.

"I swear on Isla del Sol."

The corner of her lips briefly lifted as she shot him a thankful glance at the reference.

However, before surrendering her hand, she reluctantly met Aro's eyes.

"Know I'm only doing this because of Demetri."

"So untrusting of me already? This must be a new record."

"Don't confuse repulsion for fear," she spat acidically. "I doubt anyone touches you willingly."

"Oh, how you wound me, _my_ dear. Though, as it would have it, I could very well share with you stories where the female partner begged for my touch long after I stopped giving it. I have been known to be a very attentive lover."

She blanched at this thought, pushing herself further into the wall as he chuckled to himself.

"I will have my work cut out with you, won't I? Perhaps it would be easier if I understood your need for such guarding of emotions and the root of your anger and pain."

With that, he wiggled his fingers a bit.

"Please do me the honor, Rachel. However...unwillingly."

Scowling at the mock courtesy, she reluctantly extended her own, flinching slightly at the eagerness in which Aro grasped it.

What she felt next hit her unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

A force, invisible and insistent, began pushing itself without mercy, into her skull, tapping and prodding for access. Though entirely foreign, it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. But like the levee during a hurricane, Rachel felt all of her memories, previously submerged and repressed, being pulled forward through an invisible barrier.

Like a picture show before her eyes, hours and days began playing themselves out, starting with the events at Isla del Sol.

She watched herself, as if through a veil, chatting on top of the ferris wheel with Demetri about how Sulpicia slithered her way into her life. Then, the sun had broke through the clouds and she saw herself marveling at the unnatural sparkle radiating from Demetri's skin.

Throughout this whole time, Aro's cold hand clasped onto hers without mercy and because of this, Rachel felt entirely helpless to dislodge it, much less stop the access of thoughts, feeling a sickening sense of deja vu as a result. She didn't know how, or what allowed it, but this man was seeing clear as day, every memory she'd recently had.

It didn't make any sense to her, and she didn't try to reason it out in her mind because as the memories flew by, finally landing themselves to where she and Demetri first met, Rachel tried to mentally and physically prepare herself for what was next.

Determinedly, she tried to disassemble their limbs, but Aro held on with a ferocious need, eyes staring unblinkingly past her, into the wall.

Her own eyes slammed shut as the intrusion unexpectedly became painful, though she knew it had more to do with the context of the next memory rather than anything Aro had done.

Long gone was Demetri's comforting presence, and in his place stood the horrible woman with the smile of joy twisted on her face as she twirled a knife casually in her pale fingers.

When Sulpicia cut open into her skin, Aro's grip shook ever so slightly. In fact, every time the woman spoke down to her, taunted her, abused her, whispered the most heartless words to an already broken woman, Aro's hand tightened.

Rachel felt her hate deepen for Aro each time he did this. It was his wife that was responsible for hurting her. Mutilating her. Goading her. And he knew very well what she was capable of. Why the hell would he offer her his pity?

But that hate subsided as she powerlessly listened in on the memory, eyes wearily opening, cheeks already wet with shame and humiliation.

When the memory reached its' conclusion - Rachel's battered body slumped against her bathroom wall, bloodied and cut fingers holding on to the axe with nothing short of agony and determination - she expected Aro to throw away her hand and let out some sort of threat towards herself, even if she could tell already this wasn't how he reacted to tense situations.

However, he surprised her by simply releasing a small smile, though it appeared painful to spawn.

Not once did his grip tighten as she swung down her axe, dismembering Sulpicia one by one, slowly and ruthlessly, the pale skin becoming drenched in a sea of red.

A second later and the memory began thickening out, the vision blurring ever so slightly. All that remained was witnessing herself hurl the axe into the bath tub, stumble to her bed, crawl under the covers, and began weeping at what she won and lost at the same time, sounds reminiscent of an animal caught in a trap.

A part of her assumed, through whatever divine way Aro could do what he did, that this was what he wanted to see. The last exchange between Sulpicia and herself.

But she was gravely mistaken.

Suddenly, the invasion prodded into a different part of her skull, releasing the memories of how she'd spent the three lonely years by herself.

"You saw what you wanted to," she bit out, attempting to tug her hand out of his own.

Aro ignored her completely, his grip actually tightening.

With a pained wince, Rachel studied him shakily, unsure as to why he'd want to look at those despondent years.

And the further back he traveled, the more fear spread through her.

"Stop," Rachel repeated with more force, twisting her arm harshly.

Her entire body quaked as Aro only continued observing, the years now melting away for the familiar green hills of her hometown.

At this point, Rachel began fighting without caution against his hold, slapping at his hand, scratching viciously into his skin, even screaming.

But Aro remained unmoved, face eerily statuesque.

The fear throbbed through every pulse of her vein, uncensored and terrifying.

She couldn't allow him to see so far into her past. She couldn't allow him to see what had happened. What had been destroyed and what lay in its wake. What had been lost to the cruelness of time. What mistakes were made and how she'd been responsible. What she'd left behind.

The closer he neared these explosive memories, her hair now long and luscious, eyes retaining a spark she no longer carried, the more she struggled, repeatedly losing her balance from trying to separate their entangled limbs.

When his iron grip maintained its inhuman power, Rachel tried, only out of desperation, a different approach.

This time around, she tried to push him out of her head.

His presence in her mind was like an invisible, steel-like straw, serving as a vessel to suck out all the memories he wanted to see. This wasn't exactly the best description, but every so often, when she could break through her panic, Rachel detected the vessel's presence, faintly, but it was there. And the more Aro prodded at the memory she tried like hell to keep away, the more of the vessel's presence she could detect.

When the darkness her sacred memories had been submerged in, began falling apart in surrender, Rachel blindly pressed against the invading power.

This time, what she felt, surprised her.

Within the vessel, there sat a weak point. An exposed Achilles heal, so to speak. She didn't know what sort of luck allowed her to find this miniscule point, but she knew to capitalize it while time still permitted it.

With all of the power she could muster, the nerves of energy and bundles of desperation, with a strength common of humanity when in the depths of their final seconds, Rachel violently kicked at the invading force, watching with deep relief as it soared out of the unfolding darkness.

When that pressure against her skull suddenly disappeared, Aro visibly showed his shock, detaching their hands with a parted mouth. And Rachel used this split second to pull it back hurriedly, unable to stop its shaking.

Though she was successful, she also felt tired and worn out. Like pushing him out had drained her of energy completely.

"How did you do that?"

The irony of his question wasn't lost on her as she'd asked something eerily similar minutes before of him and his abnormal talents.

Rather than answer, however, she shot him a murderous glare, the teary red of her eyes openly showing how painful his intrusion had been.

"Don't. Ever. Touch. Me. Again," she growled in between breaths, fighting against the sobs caught in her throat. "Those memories are _not_ yours to see! No one gave you the right."

Aro blinked in surprise, but didn't respond.

With his silence, something inside Rachel snapped. Maybe it was from exhaustion. Or from Aro's overwhelming presence. Or maybe because she finally really was losing it.

"Stay the fuck out of my head!" she screamed, the anger and pain intermixing, nurturing each other. "Better yet, stay away from me! You are vile and unfeeling and I'd rather face your wife a million times over than be in your presence a minute longer! No good human being would keep pushing when they knew not to. When they knew those thoughts weren't theirs to see!"

By now, tears were blurring her vision and it wasn't all that surprising when the weight of her exhaustion forced black spots to appear before her.

A moment later and Rachel dropped to the floor, body thoroughly surrendering to a sweet unconscious.

ABJABJABJABJABJABJ

Aro knelt instantly beside Rachel, hands gathering her to himself despite what she'd said. The demand inside him to have her near, only grew by the second, particularly a bit more hastily each time she pulled away from him.

"Well, that was a delightful evening," Caius sneered from behind him.

Tightening his hold on the woman, Aro continued staring down at her tear-stained cheeks, unused to feeling the guilt stirring around inside him, especially when he knew he was responsible for those tears. Usually, he felt a sense of pride, even arousal on some occasions at having brought forth such a sniveling reaction.

But on this human, he didn't enjoy it quite as much.

"Do reign in your sarcasm for the moment, brother," Aro coolly mentioned back, a gloved finger pushing back a stray lock from her sweaty forehead.

_She really is beautiful, despite what Sulpicia did. _

"Reign in my sarcasm? Aro, you kept the bitch alive! There is no reason for this. And you speak to her fondly? What are you thinking?"

This time, Aro's patience wavered substantially.

"Caius, if you do not quiet yourself down now, I will demand Jane to subdue you until clarity reaches your mind. She may answer to us both, but ultimately, I am your superior by many centuries and she will do as I say without a second thought."

The atmosphere itself lit up, partially in response to his words and partially _from_ his words.

And yet, Aro hardly payed any mind to it.

Instead, his thoughts were thoroughly engaged with the human in his lap.

There was an initial denial upon first seeing her in Demetri's thoughts that he'd battled. He wanted so desperately to see her as the unworthy human responsible for slaughtering his beloved wife. To see her as the useless food Heidi led to them within the walls of Volterra.

But he could not envision her as this sort of cattle even if he tried.

Upon recognizing the sadness engraved so nakedly within her features, Aro actually felt an unfamiliar churn in his ribcage. The intense sadness pained him greatly to see, more so to know it'd been that way for a long time. And again, he'd felt guilt, though he didn't know the source of it this time around.

When watching her from the safety of the darkness, he had briefly hoped she'd be proud. Or dim. Or deserving of Sulpicia's ministrations. Yes, he may have held an initial fondness of her, but this meant little even to the vampires he'd had met in his life because most of them were sadly pathetic in one way or another.

Instead, Aro had ended up seeing the human woman for what she really was, despite the unsavory scars and bruises lighting her skin.

This admission had kept his feet rooted to the floor in shock, an emotion uncommon for him to feel in this day and age.

When she had finally called him into the room, taunted him, already knowing he'd respond, Aro felt that shock retreat for emotions equally as rare.

Need. Dependence. Wonder. Possessiveness. Lust. So very much lust in fact that he'd had to keep his lips closed lest he spoke something rash and foolish.

Aro wasn't normally a man to push away his thoughts and emotions. They surfaced in him for a reason and understanding them would only make him stronger as a ruler.

But he held off on admitting what Rachel meant to him until Jane had been oh so close to crippling and tearing apart the human's mind. That physical pain was not something he ever wished to witness, and never would if he could help it.

So, he had stopped Jane and in doing so, accepted everything with a concrete clarity.

Rachel was his mate.

He'd known enough of Marcus's love for his own sister, to recognize when one found their mate. He'd even done extensive research on the topic, though this was merely to satisfy his boredom.

However, all of his emotions, his suddenly rampant desires, his unnatural desire to have her so close, led to the understanding that this human was his mate. He even felt his senses react to her presence, nose bent on inhaling her into memorization and tongue bent on-.

His lips twisted up with a jerk at this thought, hugging Rachel's form closer to him.

His feelings at the moment, really were quite...overpowering. Silly perhaps, but quite appropriate to say of the situation as he never expected to actually find his mate.

In fact, he'd convinced himself after so many centuries that Sulpicia was. It made things so much easier.

But this pleasure he felt, this unexpected renewal of a _primal _passion he'd thought long dead, so very painfully eradicated any form of love or affection he'd assured himself was strictly for Sulpicia.

Though he did feel just the slightest guilt for disregarding Sulpicia's demise so quickly, he ultimately was relieved in ways he could not even admit yet that Rachel had been the one to survive his former wife's torture.

_And to think this human was to be my gift. I'd have never known. Or perhaps I would, though it would have been far too late._

At this thought, Aro forced himself to confront just how insanely protective he felt of her already, stemming partly by that sadness he couldn't quite erase from his mind. And among this protectiveness was a desire to know every detail of her life from the moment of birth until now.

Unfortunately, she was not as receptive to his curiosity, going so far as to kick him out of her own mind. An impressive feat, though not completely unheard of. The few times it had happened, mostly by those who were lying to him, Aro understood he would be approaching a memory cherished above all others, guarded and sanctioned so knowledge of it would never leave the being's mind.

Something agonizing lived inside the memory he'd nearly pried open, and for the moment, the desire to acquire this memory, consumed him.

Briefly, he considered pressing his gloveless hand to her skull now just to search for the prized memory.

However, his thoughts kept him from doing so.

_She is rather insistent on me not getting inside, isn't she? If I am to convince her to at least stand in my presence, then perhaps it wouldn't be wise to invade her thoughts while asleep. _

Her aggression and outright hostility towards him was unforseen, though avoidable, he supposed, if he hadn't teased her or threatened Demetri who appeared to be the only person she did trust in the room.

But it had been fun, if not a bit stimulating. He quite enjoyed the wild anger that appeared in her eyes. He never knew when it was coming.

Still, he couldn't ignore the truth.

She hated him.

Which would have been a funny thought, if it wasn't so damned ironic. And this irony upset him greatly, especially when he thought of how he would break it to her that she was in the company of vampires. From experience, he knew humans never tended to react well to this tidbit of information.

As his thoughts played out, Aro scooped Rachel further into his arms before moving to his feet. Though he did not wish to explain what had just happened, he knew his family needed a proper explanation. He had after all, threatened two of his family members already for the sake of a human.

"Explain yourself," Caius growled upon witnessing Rachel's unconscious form cradled protectively in Aro's arms.

Aro opened his mouth, but all words were silenced as the sound of Marcus's booming laughter filled the entire room.

Both brothers cocked an eyebrow at each other, neither having ever recalled hearing their normally sullen brother laugh so loudly.

But on Marcus laughed, hands actually balling into fists as he risked peeks at Rachel's form from his closed eyes.

"Pray tell, brother, what of Rachel has so powerfully ensnarled your humor?" Aro inquired, hiding the uncertainty in his voice.

"I knew from the moment it occurred, but heaven forbid I go against the blood lust so common of yourself and Caius," Marcus explained softly, a smile still balancing his lips.

"Knew what?" Caius sharply questioned, giving the normally pensive man, a cold stare.

"The seer who traveled across a diseased land for seven days just to speak to you. The one Sulpicia made sure to murder most foul because of how threatening her prediction truly was. A prediction I knew to be true the moment she revealed it," Marcus continued, his smile turning morose. "Viola warned you, did she not? That upon killing her, you would never have Rachel as your own. Your decision to mate by force to a woman that never belonged to you rather than have the patience to search this world for your true mate, has led to the troubles you are experiencing now. Rachel, the woman who appears to want to suffer at the hands of Sulpicia a million times over rather than be in your presence, is your mate."

Caius immediately scoffed at this, but Aro remained silent, lips set in a thin line.

_"You will pay with unknown grief in centuries to come for your laziness, cruelty, and impatience. I only regret to inform you...that so will your mate."_

Aro glanced down at Rachel, studying the crease of sorrow in between both brows that followed her even into sleep.

_What had the seer said? I'd meet her two months after her eighteenth birthday?_

From Demetri's thoughts, Aro knew Rachel to be twenty-four. Which meant that they never met when they were supposed to. And from what he remembered, the seer had been quite excited to describe how passionate and exciting his mate was.

The woman in his arms, sorely lacked much of those exotic traits Viola had spoken of.

_"Much like your mate whose heart will never be open again, leaving you to drown in a loneliness you alone are responsible for."_

Was this what she meant? By not entering Rachel's life when he'd needed to, he'd left her to a fate that left her appearing older than she looked and marred with scars she would gladly die before letting him see?

Now, he understood why that second wave of guilt had hit him. And what Viola's dying words to him meant. By deciding to kill her, by disregarding her prediction, he had ultimately changed not just his own future, but Rachel's as well.

And from what it appeared, very much for the worse.

Aro wanted to openly process all this privately, but he did not have this luxury and instead, masked each observation with a cool collection.

Underneath, however, his ribcage continued to throb in agony as he realized what sort of future he'd led Rachel into. Not just of whatever it is she hid from him, but ultimately one where his wife nearly tortured her to death.

"Aro," Caius snapped. "Surely you don't believe such outlandish lies."

Aro straightened his posture, the weight in his arms suddenly feeling a lot heavier.

"It would be wise to take caution with your words, brother. Marcus's talents have yet to be wrong."

"Yes, but a human is Aro's mate?" he snarked in disbelief, frowning. "Ridiculous."

"Sulpicia was human before Aro turned her," Demetri unexpectedly pointed out, guarding himself against Caius's narrowed glare. "Just as well, Rachel's achievements as a human really are quite impressive. She's resourceful, intelligent, and was strong enough physically and mentally to prevent a millennia old vampire from killing her after suffering three days of torture. Though it's difficult to see now, she is very kind. Something Sulpicia never was. Maybe Volterra needs a new sort of woman to look up to."

Caius looked like he didn't know what to say for a moment.

"Sulpicia was your wife."

The words were meant to force Aro into seeing how grand of a mistake he was making.

But instead, they served to make a point.

"_Was_, being the key word, brother," Aro noted. "I am mildly surprised you are so distant from what I am experiencing right now. Sulpicia nearly murdered my mate. Just as your current wife and mate was nearly murdered centuries ago. Surely you know the agony and panic one feels."

"You haven't even known her a full day," he spat back, glowering at the mention of the incident.

"And I already know I do not want her to be harmed. Ever."

"Caius is right in one regard," Marcus mentioned, features far more reserved now. "Your attachment to your mate is far more intense than it should be. Far more urgent. But I think this is only a consequence of having waited so long, depriving yourself of the proper contact you needed. While Sulpicia certainly got you by, a time would have come where her companionship would ultimately have been worthless. Your loneliness, though you hide it well, would have begun consuming you. For no person on this Earth, be them human or otherwise, can live life without having experienced love."

"Why did you not mention all this to me sooner, Marcus? You knew Sulpicia was not my mate," Aro asked, attempting not to sound accusatory.

"Yes, but watching you take the seer's life taught me something. For a short second, you considered touching the her to see the vision for yourself. But ultimately, your lust for power and position won over. There existed inside you at that moment, a very real fear in which Viola's prediction could be right and you would have to give up the powerful wife you'd molded for yourself and anticipate the arrival of someone new and unaccustomed to our ways. I suppose it would have been a further waste of time to wait for Rachel. Watching you choose to kill Viola taught me you were not yet ready for my information, and you wouldn't be until something drastic occurred. I suppose this is that drastic event."

Aro frowned at the words. While everything was now coming to light, he wondered briefly if Marcus wasn't getting a pleasure from seeing his own thoughts becoming reality.

_Of course he would. I have put off his comments so often that he does not care enough to offer them anymore._

"So...what happens next?"

It was Felix that spoke this, eyes set on the human.

"Regretting your decision to have a light snack?" Alec mentioned with a faint smirk.

"Very much so. Though, it appears the drama for this evening has been met. I must be sure, master. You do wish to take this human back to Volterra?"

"It is not even an option to leave her behind," Aro dictated. "Upon arrival, she will be treated with politeness. From everyone."

Caius sniffed at this, but offered no remarks. And yet, Aro knew he would have the most difficult time incorporating the human into his life.

"What will we tell the others?" Felix questioned.

"I will be speaking to the rest of our family on what has occurred. Say nothing upon arriving."

Everyone seemed to nod in agreement with this, thought Aro knew they were all still processing the information they'd learned.

"I have a request."

Aro turned to Demetri, fighting the urge to bring Rachel closer to his body.

"Whatever it is you need, it is yours, Demetri."

The man nodded, but appeared the slightest bit nervous.

"I wish...to be the first to explain Rachel of who we are. From what I know of her, she will not respond well to force or fear. I believe I can make the explanation relatively harmless and easier to accept. Her world is opening up fast and she needs someone to accommodate this."

"That would probably be best," Aro admitted reluctantly. "I have the distinct feeling that I am not the first face she would like to see upon waking up. You are free to tell her everything."

"Including your eventual plan to turn her?" Demetri continued.

"Yes. But perhaps not all at once. I want her to enjoy the last part of her humanity before I give her a new life. I would like to be on good terms with her first as well."

"Understood. I will be as gentle in my information as possible."

"Thank you, Demetri. As for the rest of you - this will be difficult to process, yes. I cannot say I wouldn't react the same way were I in your positions. But Rachel eventually will be a part of this family. She will find her place, with or without your help. Though it would be easier with."

"Do you think she's suicidal, Demetri?" Felix asked.

Demetri opened his mouth to respond, but he closed it a second later, throwing an uncertain glance at Rachel.

"I can't say exactly. She told me once that she wasn't, but I'm unsure how she will take all this. There is a reason she has distanced herself from the world and from people. I do not know why directly, but I do know that she had control in her life and she prides being able to carry out decisions. Now, she won't. Everything will be decided by strangers whom she doesn't trust. I don't see her reacting calmly to this."

"She will adapt," Aro assured.

He missed Demetri's worried gaze as well as Marcus's frown deepening with these words.

"Let us depart, then," Caius bitterly announced, casting the entire apartment a distasteful glare. "The stench of humanity is getting repulsive."

* * *

**Aro and Rachel. What do you think? And I assure you that Aro will be riding the struggle bus from here on out. His selfishness and cruelness, as Viola had observed (whose last words and prediction are now making a bit more sense), will come back to bite him in one simple way: Rachel hates him. And this will be very fun to write because Aro was so used to Sulpicia running to him and not really caring about how she felt, but indugling her blood lust. Don't worry, he's not completely over his former wife, and various members of the Volturi will have their own POV's from here to there regarding what's going on, but as of this chapter, Rachel is Aro's reluctant mate. And Marcus. He's just a mysterious one, isn't he? Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


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